If We Ever Meet Again
by ferentis
Summary: Alistair and Clare’s relationship was destined to fall apart from the beginning; their life’s tugging them away from each other. But what if they had a chance to correct all the errors they made in the past?
1. Prolouge : It's Over

_Well, here we go again. Another fic, another adventure to follow along through. This is another idea that's been lingering in my mind for a while. _

_This story takes place after the landsmeet. Clare Cousland and her friends have helped support Alistair to claim the throne of which he rightfully deserves, whilst at the same time being rid of Anora & Loghain. However, where they thought everything would be happy go lucky, Alistair is forced to make a decision, one that would infulence the future of both him and his Grey Warden comrade. _

_Spoilers for one of the options of the landsmeet, and the story will progress to reveal the end of the game (although, not exactly exploring them in complete detail). So yes, don't read if spoilers aren't your thing.  
_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

0:1

_She's out of my life,  
and I don't know whether to laugh or cry;  
I don't know whether to live or die.  
And it cuts like a knife;  
she's out of my life._

_-_

"So that's it then? Alistair's definitely going to become King now?"

The Gray Warden – Clare – just smiled, and nodded at her friends; Wynne and Zevran standing behind her having just returned from what she thought, was a successful landsmeet. Not only had they supported and helped Alistair claim the throne of which he rightfully deserved, but at the same time they were able to be rid of Loghain _and_ reveal Anora for who she really was. Things, in Clare's mind, could not have worked out any better for them.

The group looked happy at their achievement, as if ready to celebrate. Of course, there was still the blight to focus on first before any celebration plans were to be made, but they couldn't ignore what had happened on this day.

"Well that's great! I'm glad that there's someone deserving now to claim the throne, instead of that bitch Anora."

Clare turned to look at Leliana who had spoken, and nodded.

"Yes, I'm glad too. Despite all of his original dislike to the idea, I think Alistair will be a great King for Ferleden. I also can't help but think that part of him knew this was his duty to carry upon himself, he didn't seem to reject the idea as much as I thought he would."

"Speaking of Alistair ... where is he? I would have thought you all would have travelled back together after the landsmeet was over."

Clare frowned. Leliana was right, and the four of them had walked back together. But as she reflected back on travel to the estate, she remembered how silent Alistair had been. It was as if he was in deep thought about something all the journey back and he seemed to be in his own world – not paying attention to what any of them were saying. When they reached the estate, he left to say that he'd catch up with everyone later, and walked ahead of them in the opposite direction. Wynne and Zevran were surprised, but the two of them decided to shrug it off as some sort of shock about the events of the whole day. Clare on the other hand, couldn't help but feel that something else was on the Templar's mind, something she wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answer to.

As if right on cue, Alistair appeared at the doorway, fidgeting as he stood there. He cleared his throat, and Clare turned around, smiling at him slightly. It was then she noticed it, his own expression. Alistair looked _exhausted; _along with various other emotions playing across his features, like worry and a slight hint of confusion. He didn't return her smile; instead he remained in the doorway avoiding her gaze. After a moment of awkward silence, he turned to look at Clare.

"We- need to talk. In private."

Clare felt her own body fill with worry then. A sensation fell over her suddenly, one that told her that she really did _not_ want to know what this conversation was about. The smile left her lips and instead was replaced by one accompanied with concern. She merely nodded in response, and followed him out of the room. The pair left their group of friends behind them; looks of confusion and bewilderment written on all their faces as they looked from one another for some sort of answer to what was going on.

Alistair and Clare found an empty room nearby, and they both walked in. He shut it after they both had entered, wanting to keep the conversation they were about to have as private as possible. Clare looked around her surroundings and noticed that they were in the library. It would have been a nice atmosphere in the room, had it not already been poisoned by the awkwardness that stank the air. Clare remembered that such awkwardness had not existed between the two of them for a long time, not since they first began discovering their feelings for the other in fact.

"I- I'm not sure exactly why you made me King..." Alistair began, pulling Clare out of her thoughts.

Clare turned around as he began talking so that she could face him, and noticed that he was avoiding meeting her gaze yet again, instead taking interest in staring at a nearby bookshelf instead. She could tell how he was feeling just by the way he was still fidgeting, and that made her evermore nervous. She began fumbling with her own hands, a defence mechanism she hadn't felt the need to use for what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Actually no – I know _exactly _why you did what you did, and had the tables been switched and it was me in your position, I probably, would have done the same. But, that's not the point, not exactly anyway – oh _maker_."

He ran his hand through his hair in a sense of frustration.

"The thing is, with becoming King – there's a certain amount of ... _duties_ that follow. I'm - sure you aware of them yourself. The only thing is; one of them is ... providing an heir."

Alistair turned his gaze to look at Clare finally, whose breath had been caught at the back of her throat. She gulped, and saw the sadness and pain shadowing his eyes. It was her turn to avoid his gaze this time as she slowly felt her skin crawl.

"Why – do I get the feeling this isn't something I want to hear?"

She looked back at him, trying to plead with him silently to not tell her what she was dreading to hear. He sighed and began pacing the room.

"Maker, I'm sorry. I- I should have told you sooner, I know. But, I never thought – _never, _thought that we'd be here..." He stopped, and turned to face her. "Clare, there's something I never told you, about becoming a grey warden. About – another thing it brings with it." He held his breath, and watched Clare's gaze carefully. "For two grey wardens – to have a child – it's, it's impossible. As far as I know at least. It's hard enough for one to have children, but for two?"

Clare took a step back and froze, shock overtaking her body. She should have known. The taint became part of a person once it was within them. If thirty years to live wasn't enough of a clue to how powerful the taint was, what was? But to be told such a thing? This far along in their journey, in their _relationship_? She wasn't prepared for that.

"So – you're saying ... we-we can't have children? Together?"

Their gazes met for a short while once again, one full of sadness whilst the other still pleaded for the nightmare to be over. But the gaze was again broken when Alistair shook his head.

"The only grey wardens I've ever known who have had children are those that had them before the joining process. As far as I know – the chances are near enough, if not, impossible."

Clare stood there in silence; taking in the information she had just been told. She just – couldn't believe something so big had been kept from her. Something so important too. Of course, there wasn't much time to talk about it after her joining, and the time beforehand was rushed. But, Alistair himself could have mentioned it at a later point. He managed to mention about the other factors, so why not this one? Did this not seem as important to him?

It felt like an age before Alistair began talking again.

"Clare, I should have told you sooner I know. But, it never dawned as important to me. Well, not until you suddenly became serious about this whole 'King' business. And then, this afternoon I began thinking and – I noticed. I noticed that, I love you, so, so much. And – I can't imagine, not being with you. I began to panic, thinking of a way in which we could carry on being together. Marrying you wasn't an option because it would be so unfair on you, so unfair for people to demand and an heir from you that you might not be able to give them. It was then that it hit me and-"

"Stop."

Clare's voice interrupted Alistair's ramblings, and he looked at her, confused. Clare's face however, was practically racing with the emotions she was currently feeling. Was it even possible for a single human to feel so much at one moment in time? She didn't know what was tearing her apart most, the fact she couldn't have children with the one man she would ever truly love, or what that very person was proposing as her own heart began to break with every word he spoke.

She stared back up at him, fighting hard to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't show weakness to him, not now. Not at this point in time. Later would be the time to cry; now however, now she had to be strong.

"Just, stop Alistair. Stop talking. I – I know what you're trying to say and, I don't want to hear it. Really, I don't."

"But Clare-"

"No buts Alistair! Just, listen!" She stepped back again as Alistair tried to reach out to her, to comfort her with his hand. Her own temper was beginning to rise as the words spilled from her mouth. "Don't even ask it of me, just _don't_. I'm not going to become your – your _whore, _while you prance around all of Ferleden looking for a Queen! Do you even know what you're asking of me, of how selfish your being, not just to me but to your future wife?"

She spat the words out, anger taking over her suddenly. She couldn't believe what was unravelling in front of her.

"Claire please, I – I didn't mean to hurt. I just, don't want to lose you."

"Oh that's _brilliant_ isn't it? Just fantastic! We can't be together because of our _incompatibility_ to make a damn _child _together, and yet you don't want to lose me? Well when we're you going to tell me Alistair? If you weren't to be King – when we're you going to decide it would be a good time to say 'oh by the way, we can't have children together'? Or where you just hoping that conversation would never arise?! And then – as if that wasn't enough, you decide to _insult_ me further and suggest that I become some sort of rebound for you for whenever your _desires _wish of me?!"

Alistair's own emotions flamed as Clare ended her sentence, and she could tell that just by the way that the expression on his face changed from one of pain and desperation to anger.

"Now you know that's not true! You would _never_ be a rebound; you know very well that you're the only person I care for, the only thing that's been worth anything in my whole life! You own my whole heart, no one else. And nothing would change that, and you know that!"

Clare shook her head, unwanted and uncontrollable tears beginning to stream from her eyes.

"Even if all that _is_ true, what would happen when you _do_ finally get an heir? You can hardly come running to me then, could you?"

Alistair tried to reply to that, but was caught for a reply. He knew she was right, and in that small moment all the anger he had before faded away. As much as he wanted her to remain by his side forever, he wouldn't be able to. If he ever had a child, he'd want to give it the best opportunities in life, and not have to face the excuse for an upbringing that he had to face. He'd already made his decision, even if he wasn't aware of it himself. Clare on the other hand, knew what his choice was; even if she wished more than anything it could have been different.

"It's over Alistair. Us. Me and you. It could never last for more than what it did. And we should face it for what it was, and what it will never be."

Clare walked towards the door to leave the room, walking past Alistair as she did so. She turned the door handle, and sensed Alistair turn to look at her as she was about to leave.

"Don't go."

She stopped for a second, not daring to turn around. If she did now, she didn't know what would happen to her, to _them_. If she turned around, Clare knew her resolve would probably break, and that she'd end up giving into her own weaknesses. So instead she sighed, trying not to cry anymore until she was alone in her room. Clare wanted to reply with something, _anything_ – but nothing came to mind. Instead, she shut the door behind her, and ran down the hallway.

When she reached her room, Claire shut the door behind her, and collapsed to a heap on the floor. She pulled her knees in underneath her, and cried. Cried for the love she was losing, and she slowly felt her heart break even more than it already had with every tear she shed.

Little did she know however, Alistair was doing exactly the same as she only a few rooms away from her.

* * *

_No cliffhangers - yet. I'm feeling kind for now. Chapter 2 should be up soon._

_Review if you like, it makes writers happy - and fuels them to write more :)  
_


	2. Our Lifes Will Pull Us Further Apart

_This is such an odd chapter_, _but it's needed_ _... I guess._ _Consider it a bridge of what happens after the prolouge up to where this story takes place. It's mostly to fill in the gaps anyway._

_This takes place now after the game, and well - I'll leave this chapter to fill you in on the blanks.  
_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

0:2

_I played the fool today.  
And I;  
can see us vanishing into the crowd.  
I'm longing for home again,  
but home is a feeling I buried in you._

_-_

It was just under a year since the archdemon had been defeated, and Clare had found that her life had changed significantly over that period of time. In fact, if someone had told her where she would be now when she was still living in Highever, such as rebuilding the grey warden order, ending a blight and becoming what had been known as 'the hero of Ferleden' (which, mind you, she still thought was a ridiculous title she had adopted) – she would have probably laughed in that persons face, telling them they were being delirious and that such a thing could never happen. Still, it _had_ happened; as surreal as it might seem. Clare found that she had become a Grey Warden commander entrusted with rebuilding the order that had thought to be lost what seemed so long ago, and that the current _idiot_ who was crowned King had given her the nickname of hero for the nation to know – however ludicrous it sounded to her.

Clare still remembered the day of his coronation clearly in her mind. Well, she hadn't actually been present for it entirely, but it was one of the days that would be burnt into her memory forever. Her initial plan was to leave the night before, thus avoiding the whole event altogether. However, something within her told her she should stay, at least for part of it. And so, being who she was in nature, Clare decided to act and follow that instinct. Instead of taking a leading role however and standing beside her friends, she hid in the shadows and watched from afar. Clare told herself she would leave before anyone noticed her there; and so she accomplished that goal – well, _almost_. Zevran managed to catch sight of her, and later decided to catch up with her before she left. Of course, thinking back on the whole event Clare should have known that Zevran would eventually sniff her out, what with his skills in stealth. Much to her surprise however, he didn't put up a fight in asking her to remain in the palace, or to remain in Denerim at all for that matter. Infact, he proposed quite the opposite, as when she explained her plan to him, Zevran didn't hesitate but to agree to accompany her. He informed her that he was planning to leave himself that night for Antiva, but instead suggested he'd probably be much more useful helping her rebuild the very order she was a part of. After a moment of consideration – and slight persuasion on Zevran's part – Clare agreed, and the two of them left together.

Much to Clare's surprise, Zevran proved to be much more helpful then she considered he would be. At one point, she was worried and a bit wary that he would be nothing but the flirt they both knew he was, and that made Clare experience a slight sense of concern build up inside her. However, Zevran – although resorting to the odd humorous joke here and there – managed to control his behaviour in a suitable manner. Well, most of the time. Clare sensed that he probably knew the feelings she was still attempting to hide back still, and silently thanked him for being nothing but a good friend to her.

It was Zevran who found the first group whom wished to partake in the joining process. It was a group of three, consisting of two boys and one girl, much like the group Clare remembered being a part of for a short while when she joined herself. Sadly, the results became the same from her joining, and only the young girl survived. Her name was Teresa, and Clare soon found out that she was no older then nineteen years old. Her family were murdered a few years prior, and when she learnt about the Grey Wardens recruiting, Teresa informed them that she was hoping she would have the honour of becoming one of them.

Teresa proved to be good for Clare to have along in the group. What with the majority of their friends leaving and departing in their own directions, Clare had felt rather lonely, even if she didn't realise it herself. Her good friend Leliana had left to return to Orlais, and ever since then Clare missed having a female friend around. When Teresa joined however, that aching gap within her soon filled, and the two soon became good friends.

There were more recruits after Teresa joined, which meant that their task was coming along well. However, there was still much work to be done. Zevran, although helping out in his own way, never felt the desire to become a warden himself. In truth, Clare didn't blame him, and they never felt the need to discuss it with each other, and she never wanted to force him into a decision he didn't want to take. Instead, the two of them treated it as a sort of taboo subject, and neither felt to bring it up in conversation.

When it came to informing the new King of what was happening to the order, Clare herself never left to report to him. In the beginning, everything was sent via messages. But as the order grew in number slowly, small groups began to take it onboard to deliver reports in person. It seemed much more professional than sending a letter that could easily be intercepted or lost, and not only that, it managed to provide the new recruits with some essence of training along the way. For a while Clare felt foolish, often wondering if she should just report herself once in a while. She was in charge after all, and both she and Alistair were both adults. But just the idea of being stuck in the same room as him again still managed to make her heart ache, and she knew it still wasn't an avaliable option for them to meet right now. She wouldn't be able to see him yet, not until her heart had mended again – if that would ever happen.

In relation to what the King had been up to during this period of time, all was left rather quite after the coronation. Both Clare and Zevran had heard very little, save for various rumours that they overheard every odd occasion. But nothing big or serious ever came up in those conversations. Clare didn't care that much to be honest, taking no news as good news, and instead focused on trying to add structure to her life. Until one day.

Two of the new Grey Warden recruits had returned, having reported on the growing progress on the order to the King. However, little did anyone know that they would be reporting information _back_ to the wardens for once. It was then that she heard it: the news that she had been secretly dreading for months.

"The King – is engaged."

As soon as those words escaped one of the recruits lips, Clare froze slightly, suddenly embedded in her own thoughts. She knew it would happen one day, after all wasn't that one of the reasons why they broke up in the first place? But actually hearing it spoken aloud, to hear that her fears had become the truth; it hurt more than she ever could have imagined. In that moment she felt part of her heart shatter once again. Still lost in her own thoughts, Clare only managed to catch part of the conversation that was still going on, however it seemed to be the most important factor of the story the recruits were telling.

"She was there too, we met here. I don't know how long they've been engaged for, but she seems nice enough."

"Well, she _was_ very beautiful at least."

"Did you hear any indication of when their wedding would be?" Zevran's voice followed, calm but hidden with a touch of sympathy only Clare appeared to notice.

"They didn't really say. Only, that it would likely be in a few months time ... I don't think that either of them knew themselves to be quite honest. Still, if you're worried about invitations, I'm sure the King won't hesitate to invite you both. After all, you both fought alongside him during the blight, and what kind of wedding would it be without our own hero of Ferleden there, huh?"

Clare simply smiled, and thanked the recruits for passing on the information. She watched as they left the room, the reality of what she had been told setting into her mind. As much as she didn't want to believe it, she knew it was true. After all, that was the type of nightmare she was living in nowadays. She had turned to look at Zevran, trying to smile despite everything. He'd tried to reach out his hand to her in a way of comfort, but Clare only rejected it.

"No Zevran, it's alright. _I'm_ – alright. This was bound to happen, it – just proves how we have to move on with our own lives."

She left the room herself soon after that, wanting nothing but to forget the whole event, the whole evening. Clare could never remember if she cried or not that night, the only thing she remembered was the promise she made to herself. The promise that this time around, she _would_ forget all about him, _for good_. If there was any chance of her moving on with her own life completely, then that was the first thing that had to happen.

* * *

_=X ... I guess that's that chapter over._

_Chapter 3 will be up soon ( and hopefully things will start settling down and make more sense then ). Sorry this chapter is so weird but, it's necesarry ~_

_Feel free to review, it fuels me to write more - and helps me know weather you guys are liking the story or not.  
_


	3. The Darkspawn Threat

_So, Chapter 3 :D Yaaaay ~_

_This is kinda the chapter that starts to put things into a slight perspective. You had the last chapter that bridged the year gap, and now we return to where the story takes place_.

_I hope you enjoy it, as it was rather hard to write. But gosh, I'm as anxious as you guys to get to their meeting again :3_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

0:3  
_You have loved;  
you were not alone.  
You have braved the weather,  
when the storm cut you to the bone.  
There was always shelter._

_-_

Clare walked into the room where a meeting with some of her fellow wardens was currently being held. As was the way with the order, when groups were sent out to scout for rumoured activity around Ferleden, anything they found had to be relayed back to the order itself, so as to decide the best course of action with what they were facing. This time, was no exception to that tradition.

A small group of three wardens had just returned from investigating the rumours of darkspawn activity near the Korcari wilds. Even though the blight had ended a significant time ago, the darkspawn had still not disappeared completely. They had however, grown significantly smaller in number from what they were at a year ago, but that still didn't change the fact that they were still very much a threat. Clare had often found herself dispatching groups to deal with the threats across various parts of Ferleden before they became a bigger problem to deal with.

This time however, Clare couldn't help but feel slightly concerned about what was happening. And as she continued to listen to the report with Zevran and Teresa next to her, she thought about the position they were in. A frown became visible on her face; she knew how dangerous the wilds were, what with her own experiences there in the past. The fact that there were reports of darkspawn activity, well it would unnerve even the strongest of people.

"If we put together a small group to finish them off, then I'm sure the darkspawn group will be as good as gone within a number of days."

Clare looked up at the warden who had finished talking. Another new recruit. He had only joined just little under a month ago, and was still new to the whole situation and experience of being a grey warden. To him, Clare was sure that this was all just normal protocol. Catch the darkspawn, kill it, and report back till the next time. Oh, if only things could be that easy all the time. Sighing, she got up from where she was sitting on the chair.

"No. This time we must act with a little more consideration to the situation. After all, we don't really know what we're running headlong into."

The warden who had spoke before her just opened his eyes wide, a little shocked at the caution his superior was showing.

"But Clare, this is no different than every other time a group goes out to fight darkspawn. Send a group out, and they'll be gone in no time. Why are you deciding to take such precaution now?"

"Because this time it _is_ different. Very different. You may not be aware of it, but I am." Clare caught sight at his confused expression, and sighed yet again. "Up till now, darkspawn have shown up in areas where we had expected them to somehow turn up eventually. But you've brought to us the intelligence that they've turned up in the Korcari wilds, am I correct?" She turned, and caught sight of the man nod in response out of the corner of her eye. "Well, then we have every right to be cautious. The Korcari wilds are a dangerous place, apart from the darkspawn we don't know what else to expect there. We can't just simply 'barge in' and expect to come out unscratched. They don't call it the wilds for nothing after all."

The warden still looked confused, but not so much at the prospect of why they couldn't just fight it out as usual. A sense of understanding of the situation had washed over his face. Clare managed to notice this, and was thankful that he understood what was going on. She waved him to leave the room, asking for a moment in private to decide upon what was the best course of action to take in this circumstance; whilst promising she would reveal her decision later. As he shut the door behind him, Clare turned to look at Zevran and Teresa, both sharing the same expression of deep thought that she currently carried as they all thought about the best cause of action.

After a moment of silence, Zevran spoke up.

"So, Warden Clare, what do you propose is the right route to take in such a situation?"

Clare frowned, frustrated with herself as her mind was still plagued with ideas, but not one of them seemingly helpful at that moment.

"I'm not exactly sure," she replied, her eyes focusing on some part of the wall. Of course, she'd like the jump in and defeat the darkspawn as much as the next person would, but it was what else was in the wilds they could possibly run into that sent a chill down her spine. She recalled the times she'd been there herself in the past, and remembered how she couldn't help but feel the need to look over her back every five seconds, for good reason also.

"I know I've never gone to the wilds myself, but judging from the rumours I've heard, you were right to deny jumping straight into trouble."

Both Clare and Zevran turned to look at Teresa, who had decided to speak up and add her own comments to the conversation.

"The rumours I've heard – it's not a nice place at all. People often get lost there, and are known to not return at times, am I right?"

"You are perfectly correct there. Our own experiences to that place have been, not entirely pleasant. It is not a place that you would want to return to once you've visited it once."

Clare thought back as Zevran answered, remembering the time that they decided to help Morrigan be rid of her mother. It was an experience she most definitely wanted to forget, and never wanted to relive again. In fact, that memory was exactly one of the many reasons they had to take caution in what they planned. After all, Flemeth wasn't the only thing that was to be feared out there.

"Do you think – this is something we should perhaps, pass on to the King?" Teresa asked after another moments of silence.

Zevran glanced over at Clare quickly then, who had tensed slightly at her friend's suggestion. Well, it had been a while since they heard any news from them, the last being the wedding that they hadn't attended – nor been invited too. But – this was hardly the time for personal vendetta's and feelings to get in the way. Teresa's suggestion _did _make sense. After all, this something on a larger scale then what they were used to, and they really needed to treat it in a professional manner, so as to escape the worst case scenario.

"How would that help this situation, exactly, my dear Teresa?" came Zevrans voice from behind Clare. Clare on the other hand, couldn't help but smile slightly as his voice rang the air. Zevran was still trying to weasel their way out of meeting Alistair, even after a year of avoiding him.

"Well, I just thought – maybe that would help in some way. We need the help do we not? And even if we sent out _all of our forces_, - which is a long shot I know- he'd probably want to know what was going on, especially if no reports were delivered to him suddenly."

"This is true; however I fail to see the part which explains exactly _how_ he would be able to help us. Even if we told him, what makes you think he would not be sitting in the exact predicament we are sitting in now?"

"Even if that's true Zevran, Teresa is right."

Clare turned around, both looking at the pairs expressions. Zevran looked shocked slightly, whereas Teresa looked rather – relieved that Clare had decided to agree with her idea. Pacing the room as a way to avoid Zevran's gaze, Clare began to explain what was piecing together in her mind.

"It's true that if we told him, the King would probably be stuck in the same situation we are currently facing. But, that's not to say he wouldn't attempt to help in some way. After all, he's still a grey warden too; that fact we must not try to neglect."

She turned, and glared at Zevran for a moment. Never would she have thought she would be using Alistair's own line of defence as a way to persuade Zevran that meeting with him now would be a good thing. It seemed funny to Clare how things had changed even to _that_ degree. Teresa on the other hand only looked at both Zevran and Clare, once again sensing one of those 'past problems' that seemed to happen quite a lot in these types of discussions. She decided to remain silent, and watch as the pair of them argued their way through the decision.

"Not to mention, it would all be mentioned in a report later; and if he found out we went to the Korcari wilds without at least _informing_ him first – I doubt he would be happy."

Clare heard Zevran mutter something under his breath silently, but she decided to ignore whatever it was he said. She knew he only had her best interests at heart, but at the same time, this was something that had to be done. Of course, they might not like it – Clare knew for a fact she still wasn't too keen on the idea herself – but it was the most logical choice to make. Emotions would have to be pushed aside once again, and they would have to pull through this for the sake of their duties.

After yet another moment of silence – and an exchange in glares between both Zevran and Clare – Teresa decided to speak up.

"So, what is it you have decided Clare? Are we to go to Denerim and inform the king of our current predicament?"

Clare watched as Zevran tore his gaze from her, sighing in defeat. Of course she would win; she wasn't an expert in persuasion skills for nothing after all. Smiling to herself slightly at her victory, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face Teresa.

"Yes Teresa. Inform the clan that we intend to seek out the King's advice. And gather together two others who will accompany us three. Tell them we shall depart tomorrow."

Zevran blinked then, and turned to look at Clare again with a shocked expression written on his face again.

"Wait – are you suggesting that _I_ am to come with you also?"

Clare only smiled more at that outburst, sensing Zevran's discomfort at the suggestion.

"Why of course Zevran. I'm sure you are very opinionated in your views on my decision, and I daresay I'll need your skills to help decide what route we should take next. Not only that, but I'm sure your _good friend_ Alistair wishes to see you after all this time."

Still carrying a smirk on her face, Clare followed after Teresa to leave the room and prepare for their journey, leaving a very confused and irritated Zevran alone to fume in the room by himself.

* * *

_If theres one thing I learnt, the Korcari wilds are **never** a good place to travel too. Never.  
_

_Review if you liked this chapter, and stay tuned for chapter 4. _


	4. Strange Meeting

_And here's our next update. I was hoping to have this up early yesterday morning, but I wasn't feeling well all day_. _So today,_ _you get a special treat :3_

_Anyway, here's the chapter you've been waiting for ... sorta. The meeting in Denerim. I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:4_

_"Courage was mine, and I had mystery; _

_wisdom was mine, and I had mastery."_

_-_

Denerim was still very much the same as it had been on her last visit. In fact, it was as if nothing had changed at all over the last year. Clare however, knew this wasn't true, and tried to push the thoughts of her past in Denerim away from her mind as she walked to the palace, both Zevran and Teresa following after her. They had arrived with two other wardens for the day's meeting, but Clare had instructed them to search the marketplace for various materials that could be of use to them on their mission, such as poultices and bandages in case any injuries were sustained. After all, there was nothing wrong with being prepared, was there?

Clare only wished she could be more prepared for the meeting she was about to have herself. As much as she tried not to show it to Zevran and Teresa, she was very nervous. After all, her and Alistair hadn't spoken to one another since – well, _then_. And not only that, various factors had changed from where they were at a year ago. Both of them had changed as people do due to their different positions, and – of course, there was the factor that Alistair had a _wife_ now. The thought still managed to leave a burning sensation at the pit of Clare's stomach, however much she wanted to pretend that she was fine over the whole ordeal, and couldn't care less about the King's personal life anymore.

Still, standing in the hallway of the Palace of where said King lived now, Clare couldn't help but feel slightly anxious at what could happen. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, that she almost didn't recognize who the woman was who had come to see who was paying a visit.

"What's this? I was unaware of any wardens reporting to us today. Hadn't you only just handed in a report to the King a few weeks ago?"

Clare snapped out of her thoughts suddenly at the voice that spoke, disbelief falling on her ears.

"Wynne?" She asked.

The woman who spoke before froze, and Clare decided to take that as a sign that she was right. Signalling to Zevran and Teresa to follow suit, she removed the hood that hid her face and identity. When her face was fully revealed, she heard the woman gasp slightly in shock.

"Makers breath, Clare? And Zevran too?"

Clare smiled warmly, happy to see the familiar face of the elder mage she knew so well. All fear that echoed in her stomach as was accompanied by a feeling of happiness and nostalgia. In all honestly, Clare thought that she would never see Wynne again. For them to both meet, after all this time, it was a thing to smile about indeed.

"Hello, Wynne." She replied, her voice warm with the complete happiness she was currently feeling.

"Well, this is a shock. And here I was beginning to believe we should never meet again dear. You do not know how much it warms my heart to see your face after all this time." Wynne paused, looking over both Zevran and Teresa, before turning her gaze back to Clare. "But whatever would you bring you here at such a time? Something tells me you are not here for idle chit chat."

"You know me too well Wynne." Clare's face became serious then, as the realisation of why there were here came back to her mind. "As much as we would love to stay and reminisce upon times gone by – that is not why we're here. We request presence with the King; on an important matter that has only just been brought to light. You know I would not be here unless it was _very_ important."

Wynne's face showed a light of sadness for a moment, as she realized what Clare meant with what she said. Instead of pressing the case, she nodded.

"Very well. He's just finished with a meeting anyway, I'm sure he wouldn't mind hearing what it is you have to say, especially at the honour of you just being here in person. I will take you to see him."

"Thank you." Clare replied.

They followed behind Wynne, Zevran and Teresa standing close to Clare as a means of support. Clare on the other hand, continued to make their report the main focus in her mind. Her mask of leadership and duty became laced on her face, and she knew that she could get through this meeting as long as it remained in place. She had to.

The group were told to remain outside of the doors as Wynne went to inform Alistair that they were there, and the three of them could hear distant murmuring from the other side as the conversation took place. Zevran remained cool and collected in appearance, as much as someone could be for an event they didn't really want to be a part of. Teresa just remained silent, only remaining for support – and the fact that this was ultimately her idea in the end. After a few moments Wynne stepped out and held the door open for them to walk in, and three proceeded into the room.

The room was silent as they walked in, and Clare felt the stares bear into her skin like daggers. She suddenly felt even more discomfort in the pit of her stomach once again whereas in her eyes maintained the resolve she had set there only moments before. The three stopped when they reached the centre of the room, and Clare bowed slightly, causing Zevran and Teresa to follow suit. They remained like that for what felt like an age, until suddenly Clare heard Alistair's voice hit her ears.

"Well this _is_ a surprise. To what do we have the honour of your presence?"

That's when she looked up, and saw for the first time in what felt like a lifetime the very person who had once destroyed all her happiness. Sitting next to him she noted, was _her_. The woman who was known well throughout the land now; and who had only just a few months ago been titled as Queen. And, if first impressions were anything to go by – Clare did not like her one bit. Blame her for being bitter, perhaps that was all it was – but there was something else about the women that didn't sit well with her.

Pulling herself up from her bow, Clare crossed her arms, and without hesitation began to speak.

"Your majesty, we come bearing news that has disturbed us in some way. News that relates to the darkspawn threats that still appear across Ferleden. I'm judging that you've paid attention to all our reports?"

Clare had sensed the twitch that Alistair had when she refused him of his name, instead referring him to his title, but decided to ignore it. After all, this was time for duty, not a rekindling of friendship – which she also noted to herself she didn't want from him. The tension in the room remained, but Clare decided to ignore it for the reason it was there too.

"Well yes – but as far as we we're aware, all the reports read that the threats were being sorted, and that no problems were being faced."

"That – is true, or at least _was_ true," Clare paused, uncrossing her arms as she began to pace the room. "At least, up until a few days ago. We received intelligence on more darkspawn activity – that's, not what worried us. It was ... the location."

"And where is this location? What – or _where_ – could such a place exist that even the hero of Ferleden herself is unnerved about a mission?"

It was the Queen that spoke, her voice full of venom as she spat Clare's adopted title out. Clare however, decided to take the high ground and ignore the attack, instead turning to face her with a look of determination still evident on her face.

"Because, Lady Marina – if _I may_ call you that – the location we received is not a peaceful one, and not one you can idly walk into and expect to come out unscratched. The intelligence we received informed us that the darkspawn are residing within the Korcari wilds."

As that information was spoken aloud, Clare got a reaction she wasn't expecting. Alistair had shot out of his seat, his face full of fear. The lady next to him – Marina – merely raised her eyebrow at her husband's actions, not showing any sign of shock herself. The group before the royal couple blinked; just as confused as the Queen was at what had happened.

"Alistair? Is something wrong?" Came Marina's voice – which to Clare's ears seemed to be laced with fake concern.

Nearly as quickly as he had shot up, Alistair turned to his wife and sunk back into his chair again, attempting to hide his shocked expression.

"Err – nothing my dear. It's nothing." He turned back to look at the group, and Clare couldn't help but wonder herself what had gotten him so worked up. "You're serious?"

"I can _assure_ you, if I wasn't I would hardly be here right now. Of course, we've intended to go into the wilds and find these monsters, but it was my fellow warden Teresa here's idea to inform you of this. She felt you may have a better answer for our current predicament – and if not, well, she provided the insight that we would need to report to you before we left to tell you about what we had learned, in case you began to wonder where a report would be if you did not receive one at the appropriate time."

The room was silent for a moment, and Clare could swear she could hear Alistair's brain ticking as he tried to think of some way to help them. Of course, he probably wouldn't be able to help that much, if at all, but she'd made her case. Clare wouldn't have to worry about having _royalty_ nag her when she returned from this mission. That was one thing she didn't need.

"We could give you soldiers to help you in your mission. If you're going into the wilds, you're going to need all the help you can get."

Clare shook her head at the offer, shocking everyone in the room – even Zevran.

"That would not be advisable, as much as it is appreciated. The soldiers will be needed later, for various other missions. And not only that, they are not ... _trained_ to deal with some things that lurk in the wilds. While we know there are darkspawn there, we cannot be sure what else is. It would be unfair to drag them into something they are neither prepared for, or have any knowledge of just how dangerous it is. They grey wardens are best suited for the job; as they can detect when the darkspawn are near. I refuse to take soldiers into a place when it would be like walking in the dark for them."

Clare wasn't sure if she had even just made sense then, but one thing was clear in her mind. There would be no unnecessary bloodshed on her part. Her recruits had become a sort of detached family to her, and she could trust them to take care of themselves with such a mission. Soldiers she'd never met however? Not so much. It would be – hard for her to guide their way to the darkspawn whilst defending men she hardly knew at the same time. And in a place such as the wilds, she knew they would want to be out of their as soon as possible, not lingering long enough to become the pray of some other predator out there.

"Forgive me for interrupting Clare but - would it not be ideal to take the soldiers? It may be true the grey wardens can detect the darkspawn - but having the soldiers aid would help hasten how quickly we are rid of the monsters."

Clare turned to Zevran as he stated his idea, but she merely shook her head once again.

"I agree with your statement Zevran - and where the soldiers would be good for help in defeating the darkspawn, that is not what I'm concerned about. My concern is, they are not trained for what else lurks in the wilds. I can prepare the wardens to be on the alert, but I cannot prepare the soldiers as well. I myself have never been in the wilds without a warden by my side, or at least a group in which I know everyone's abilities and can trust them to fend for themselves. If we take the soldiers, I would not know where their weaknesses lie, and if we run into bad news - then it could be a lot more costly escaping that situation then if we only took wardens."

She saw Zevran contemplate the idea she had brought to mind, and then nod in contentment after a brief second, as if understanding what it was she was trying to say.

"It makes sense. You always were one to be wary on an individuals strengths and weaknesses."

Clare looked around the room, seeing both Alistair and Teresa agree with her reasoning. Her decision however, did not seem to sit well with one person in the room as it had with the others. She noticed Marina's face was full of anger, and Clare suddenly felt she was no longer welcome in the room – not that she was welcome that much anyway.

"Well – what do you expect we do to help you? We give you options, and you discard them. You do not leave us an easy decision here, _warden_. What is it you wish us to do? How do you wish help from us when you do not accept it?"

Clare merely shook her head yet again as Marina finished speaking.

"I'm sorry milady – but that is a question that even I do not know the answer to. I guess this meeting was what I thought it would turn out to be; nothing but an informative, early report. We are sorry for wasting your time."

She heard the woman mutter under her breath, but Clare decided she had overrun her warm welcome. She turned her back on the royal couple, facing both Zevran and Teresa. She nodded; informing them it was time to leave.

"We shall leave for the wilds as soon as possible, you're highness's. And we will report back when all darkspawn threats have been destroyed from there."

And not waiting for a reply, she left the room, her two friends beside her as they walked away.

* * *

"Well that was surely ... awkward." Teresa spoke as they stood outside.

"Quite," Clare replied, raising her eyebrows as she did so.

To say the meeting had gone as planned would be far from a lie. Especially as they were left in the same sticky situation as they were before they had walked in there. The only thing that was clear to Clare now was that she would have to send a team of wardens into the wilds – accompanied by herself – and destroy the darkspawn that way. It was there only real option. Part of her wished she'd accepted the offer of taking soldiers with her now, but knew they would be nothing but a burden on them.

"I must say – you must be the only person in the whole of Ferleden who can annoy the Queen and walk away unscratched. I'm surprised Clare."

Clare merely sneered at that comment, thinking back to how hot headed Marina had been. Something inside her told her she really, truly did not like her – and she had expected that Marina would feel the same way too.

"Well, she has very little reason to be so vicious with me. I'll just take it that I didn't leave a good first impression on her."

"Oh my dearest Clare, she has _every_ reason to act venomous with you. It is hardly a secret of your past to the King himself, and – if we're judging on first impressions, she is the one that leaves a bitter taste in ones mouth."

Clare's brow furrowed then at Zevrans comment, and she noticed how Teresa looked at her, then back at Zevran with nothing but utter bewilderment on her face.

"Past with the King– okay, I always knew there was _something_ you two weren't sharing, but Zevran has me curious. What, _exactly_ is he talking about that can leave even the Queen herself wanting to burn you with her own death glares?"

"Ignore Zevran; he is talking about things that no longer play any importance into anything. Including the Queens behaviour." Clare crossed her arms and stuck her head in the air as she avoided Teresa's question. "If you have my opinion, she just has something rotten biting her in her backside."

"That – I can also agree with, although I still stand by my opinion before. You are not the only one that has a certain . . . bitterness towards her. I can honestly say she is not someone I would want to bed with."

"Zevran!" Clare uncrossed her arms and turned to him, shocked at what he had said.

"What? I only speak truth. She may have a nice face, but her personality is disgusting. Actually, thinking back upon it – her face isn't all that pretty also."

"I was beginning to wonder why you weren't the helpless flirt you usually are with people." Teresa rolled her eyes as she spoke.

Clare merely tried to hold in a laugh. If even Zevran thought the woman was an evil wrench, than that had to be speaking for _something_. It was odd to hear him talk about a woman in such a way.

"You two – what am I going to do with you?" She shook her head, still smiling at her friend's dislike of the Queen. "Maker, we should get to meeting with the others. I'm sure they've picked up enough supplies now. Then we shall return to make preparations for our dispatch to the wilds."

* * *

_And that's where this chapter ends. The next should be up very soon, yup - today you get two chapters for the price of one :D What a fantastic deal!_

_Don't forget to leave a review if you liked this story, because I love reading them. And thank you for all the support you've given this story so far :3  
_


	5. An Unexpected Guest

_Chapter 5 - and a certain someone just doesn't know when to quit trying to lend a hand. _

_This chapter was actually, very fun for me to write - so I hope it's as fun for you as it was for me. Anyway, I'll leave you to carry on reading :3_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:5  
"A friend in need is a friend indeed,  
a friend who'll tease is better.  
Our thoughts compressed  
which makes us blessed;  
and makes for stormy weather"_

_-_

Clare walked around the camp for what felt like the tenth time that hour, making sure that everyone who was leaving with them was ready to depart. She had checked packs for bandages, poultices, and various other materials which would help. She had made sure that the armour her men had didn't need replacing or fixing before they left, made sure everyone's weapons were up to scratch. In short, a thorough search was conducted to make sure nothing could possible go wrong or be used against them as a weakness.

It was decided that the team going into the wilds would only be small. Although the wardens had slowly been growing in number, there was not enough to send a bigger party into the wilds just yet. The group consisted of herself, Zevran and Teresa, along with three other wardens. She made sure the other wardens had had enough experience in darkspawn fights, as she didn't want to take a newer recruit at the risk of them being in more trouble. Orders had been made for what was to happen whilst she was gone.

It wasn't until Zevran had walked up to Clare, informing her that they had a visitor, that she knew she would be adding a plus one to the darkspawn hunting party.

"The _idiot_! Why is he even here? Zevran, why didn't you just tell him to go away, or say we'd already left?"

"Because 'that idiot' could see you were still here, and no one can miss your frantic running to and fro as you prepare for this task."

Zevran looked back at Clare's face then, which even she knew was fuming in madness. She looked ready to stab something – and Clare felt like she wanted to. Or at least stab a certain _someone_. Zevran having noticed this, decided to carry on speaking.

"Clare, don't do or say anything rash. You're not talking to just anyone, as much as I think it would be fun if you attacked him right now."

Appearing to ignore Zevran's advice, Clare had already decided to storm over to their _visitor_. As she did so Clare did everything she could to hold back the complete and utter anger and bewilderment that was streaming through her veins in that moment – but it wasn't working very well for her.

"And why, _pray tell_, are _you_ here – _your majesty_?" She spat the words out in the same way as the Queen had spoken to her only the other day, wanting nothing but to get the man standing in front of her to leave. That wasn't happing soon by the looks of things, and instead – he decided to reply.

"Well – you wouldn't take my advice or help when I offered you soldiers to help fight your battle, instead playing the whole 'oh we only need grey wardens!' card. So, I figured instead – I'd send you a grey warden. And here I am."

". . ."

Clare couldn't believe what was happening. The stupid idiot King; otherwise known as Alistair to those who knew how much of _an idiot_ he really was – had decided to follow them back to the camp, just to say he was going to help them himself on their mission? Had the guy never given up his stupid acts? Obviously not, otherwise he wouldn't be standing before her now.

". . . Why do I get the feeling you're going to explode at any given moment?"

That. That was what was annoying Clare more than anything. The fact that he was acting as if they were still as close as they were in the past. As if nothing had changed, and they were still facing a blight and – as if they were still on _speaking_ terms. Either this was a defence mechanism he had built up, or he had grown a lot more stupid than she had remembered.

"Are you _insane_?!" She replied, trying to keep her voice down so as to not make a scene to those around them. Although that was also failing for her because – the King was present in their camp. A scene had already been made. "You're a King, and yet you've come out here – _by yourself – _and decided to help us, _by yourself_. You've completely and utterly lost your mind!"

"Okay . . . that wasn't the response I was expecting..."

"What response _were_ you expecting out of interest? Have you even thought this through?! You're King, and yet you're prancing around as if that doesn't even mean anything. We're going to the _wilds_ your majesty, not to visit the elves! How do you think people are going to react if something happens to their King? Well?!"

"Okay – first off, my name is _Alistair_, so you can cut all that '_your majesty'_ stuff out for a start. And second – it's not like I'm going there by _myself_. As you said yourself yesterday, the grey wardens are best suited for this kind of task. I'm a grey warden, accompanying _other_ grey wardens to help stop a threat before it becomes something bigger."

"Oh, so, suddenly you're a grey warden again – and _you want_ to fight darkspawn?"

"Well yes. I never really stopped being a grey warden. And – I do miss the whole 'stab stab kill kill' that came with fighting the darkspawn."

"Well, continue missing it – because you are _not_ coming with us."

Clare turned her back and began to walk off, still feeling the anger she was trying to hold in fill the atmosphere around her. She hoped that Alistair had got the message she was trying to put across, but unfortunately that didn't work out as she hoped it would as he began following after her. Maker, since when had the guy suddenly become so determined?

"Why not? You need the help, and I could use some time out of the palace. As long as I'm with the wardens, then it's fine. And if the hero of Ferleden is there – well then it's even better as I'll be even more safe-"

"I said no! I'm not babysitting a King now."

"You don't have to!" He ran to step in front of her, blocking her path. Clare rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, wanting to hit the guy in the face right there and then for being so stupid in what he was proposing. "Don't you get it? You need extra recruits – especially ones that have experience fighting darkspawn. And I doubt many of your recruits have experience fighting darkspawn in the wilds. I have that. That makes me better suited for the mission. You need the extra hands, and _you know _I can look after myself."

"_No_. Why won't that sink in to your mind?"

"Because I know your thinking that it's actually a good idea. For once, Alistair came up with something smart, yet you don't give him the credit he needs."

"That's because it's both _ridiculous_ and _foolish_ at the same time!"

Although, Clare was beginning to not have as much confidence in what she was saying anymore. Alistair was right; it wasn't a _totally_ bad idea. Out of the rest of the recruits, he did have more experience – and he had fought darkspawn in the wilds. She should know, she was there with him. So why was she still arguing with him? Many reasons played across her mind.

For one, he was a King. Even though they both knew he could take care of himself fine – what would happen if – hypothetically of course - something did happen? Clare didn't think she really wanted to be there to deliver the news that something bad had happened to Ferleden's King, if it ever came to it. And second of all – probably _most_ important – was what she was trying to bury deep inside her. She didn't want him there. Their lives had been pulled apart for a reason; their duties should clash with one another. But because he was _so damn proud_ of being a grey warden, he wanted to help. If he was there, Clare knew her mission would be ten times harder. He shouldn't be allowed to walk so freely in and out of her life, and yet here he was – pushing his way in after a year of no contact between them. And not to mention she was still, very much mad at him.

"Can – I help you two?"

Clare turned her head quickly, and saw Teresa walking to the two of them. _Thank the maker_ she thought. There was someone else who could convince the idiot in front of her how much of a bad idea it was for him to accompany them.

"It's just that- if you two continue arguing, we're never going to leave, and the darkspawn _are_ going to become a bigger problem."

Clare pointed at Alistair, and continued to look in her friends face.

"Teresa; tell this idiot that he is _not_ coming to help us, no matter how much of a 'good idea' it sounds to him."

Clare noticed Teresa raise one of her eyebrows in confusion, and watched as she looked back at Alistair and Clare. She stopped when she looked at Alistair, and spoke to him.

"Your majesty, rumour has it you were once a grey warden – we're you not?"

"That's true, apart from the 'once' bit. I never really stopped being a grey warden. Why else would you have to report progress to me every month?"

Clare saw Teresa smirk slightly, and dread began to fill at the pit of Clare's stomach.

"Teresa..."

"I don't see why you can't accompany us. We _do_ need the extra help,"

"This is what I've been suggesting! Your _commander_ however feels differently."

Both set of eyes fell on Clare once again, and she suddenly couldn't help but feel defensive. She crossed her arms again.

"I just think it's a _bad idea_. If we have him following us about, what happens when we take our eyes off him?"

"I'm not _that_ accident prone, Clare."

"And we'll just have to keep our eyes on him at all times so he doesn't fall into any unwanted danger. Clare, there's no need to be stubborn. We need the help – and he's as experienced as you are; which will be helpful. I say, he comes with us."

Clare couldn't believe what she was hearing. Everything had been going so well that morning, until now. She sighed in defeat, noticing she couldn't win however much she wanted to.

"Fine, whatever! Come along if you want then; just don't blame me for being cautious."

She stormed off then to finish packing. Clare knew she was probably acting like a spoilt child, and the idea wasn't that much of a bad one when she thought about it strategically. However, she still couldn't stop the feeling in her stomach that was telling her it was a very bad mistake they had just made.

She didn't notice when Zevran walked over to join Alistair and Teresa; and she didn't notice the glare he gave Alistair as he walked off to prepare himself. She however, didn't miss Zevran's comment to Teresa after Alistair had disappeared.

"Teresa my friend, you're going to wish you never supported him in staying now."

* * *

_And so, the party is sorted - and the madness is beginning to unravel. I wonder what will happen to this group on their adventure?_

_Review if you liked - it may get chapter 6 up even more quicker :O _


	6. The Elf's Story

_Firstly; thanks for all the reviews so far guys. It really makes me smile when I log on and read them._

_Anyway, next chapter. The first night for our party to be left alone in camp. This chapter is told from Teresa's perspective ; not Clares. You'll see why when you read on. I hope you enjoy this, now I shall leave you to read on : )_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:6  
"So many things were swimming around and around in my mind,  
who would have dreamed what secrets we would find?  
I found a world where love and dreams and darkness all collide;  
maybe this time we can leave our broken world behind."_

_-_

It was the first night of camp for the small group, and Teresa was beginning to understand slowly but surely why Zevran had said what he had to her. Coming from two certain people in the camp was a strong atmosphere of awkwardness, and where the other wardens may not have noticed it so much, Teresa had. Perhaps it was because of how well she knew Clare, or perhaps it was just because it was so painstakingly obvious to her, or even it might have been due to the fact of that little thing called a women's intuition. Either way, a variety of things were floating through the young warden's mind as she watched Alistair fidget nervously from where he was sitting by the fire.

She looked around the camp in search of Zevran, and found him sitting by the tent he had pitched up for himself only a few hours prior. Teresa sighed, and walked over to him, really wanting a discussion to save her from going mad from the poisoning of the toxic atmosphere.

"You know, I'm starting to think you might be right about my regrets," she spoke as she sat down next to the elf. Zevran turned his gaze to look at her, and Teresa could catch from the corner of her eye that he was in fact smiling.

"You've put up with them for a day and you are already agreeing with me? I was sure you wouldn't break till the third night at least." He paused for a moment, laughing slightly at Teresa's confession. "It gets worse. So far, you're witnessing the 'avoiding and acting in a somewhat civil nature' phase. Soon enough Clare will be ripping him to shreds with her own words later."

"It gets worse? And here I thought their dispute this morning was as far as it got! Maker."

The pair sat in silence for a while, watching as Clare got up from her discussion with one of the other wardens and return to her own tent. She was probably going to plan or organize something in private for when they would finally reach the wilds, as was no less expected from the strategic warrior that was known throughout the land . Teresa sighed, bowing her head slightly. There was something she wanted to ask, but didn't know if she had any place to ask of it. But it was nagging at her deep inside. Deciding to choose her words carefully, she spoke what was on her mind. After all, Zevran could always choose not to answer her questions if he wanted to, she wouldn't mind.

"Something tells me – this morning's argument between Clare and the King; it wasn't just based upon Clare worrying for his protection due to his title, was it?"

Zevran shuffled slightly, and Teresa decided to take it as he wondering if they should really be having this conversation. Either way, she felt she had _some_ sort of right to know the outline of what was happening. She was, after all a friend, a comrade. Not to mention the fact that she would be in this mission with the rest of them as well. Teresa was – fed up with being left in the dark about what ever it was that had happened, what was treated as such a taboo subject between the elf and the older warden. All this time, she could only go on what her feelings told her, not wanting to push a conversation too much in case it was wrong to. But friends shouldn't do that. They should be there as support.

"You wouldn't be wrong in thinking that," Zevran sighed, deciding to give in and tell her what the real reason was. "How do I put this in a way so that Clare won't kill me later when she finds out I told you. Her and Alistair we're involved ... intimately."

Teresa felt her eyes widen in surprise as Zevran revealed to her the truth.

"You mean – they were-"

"Yes, it is exactly what you're thinking." Teresa couldn't help but sense a shadow of a frown on Zevran's face as he continued to speak. "No one was really shocked to learn about it when they found out. If anything it was – how do I say this – obviously bound to happen. It was Alistair who would follow her around like a lovesick puppy half the time, even if the two of them weren't aware of it themselves."

"I don't understand. If they were so close, what changed?"

"A great many things happened. We found out Alistair was the last remaining heir to the throne. I guess that was where their downfall began. One of the members of the group we travelled with – Leliana her name was – she was convinced that the two of them would be together forever. I think everyone felt the same somewhat. Until the night they broke up." Zevan grimaced, as if remembering something that was painful not only to Clare, but to himself also. "He pulled her into a room away from us all, but it didn't stop us from overhearing what was being said. He not only broke her heart that night, but he also insulted and broke her pride."

Teresa couldn't help but feel empathy for Clare at that comment. It took a lot to hurt Clare's pride, and to Teresa it seemed like the elder warden's pride was untouchable. For Alistair to be able to not only hurt her heart, but one of the things that made Clare herself, he must have hurt her terribly in whatever he did. The whole idea of anyone even being able to do that to her, to be able to break such a barrier Clare had built for herself; it lingered a single question in Teresa's mind.

"Why? If he loved her so much – why did he do that?"

"Because he believed them being together would be more complicated than if they were apart. As long as he was King they couldn't marry. Do you remember Clare telling you how hard it is for grey wardens to have children?"

Teresa frowned herself then and nodded in answer to Zevran, remembering the memory. Back before she was about to become a grey warden, Clare had asked her if it was really what she wanted, and informed her that if she joined there was a chance she might never have a child. She didn't understand then why Clare was so desperate for her to understand the implications of being a grey warden, but had agreed that being one was what she wanted to do. It was only later did she learn that it was the taint itself that makes one barren.

"Well, that was one of the reasons they couldn't be together. Alistair would have needed a child sooner or later, and there was no guarantee that Clare could provide him with one. The idiot obviously hadn't taken into account there were ways which could have helped them, and of course they could have always just ... tried but, well."

"You said he insulted her pride also?"

"Ah yes. You know how Clare is, how her pride and honour is something she values highly." Zevran paused slightly, and Teresa could have sworn she saw a hint of hesitation on his face before he carried on with his story. "Alistair had asked her to become his concubine as the only way for the two of them to remain together. She naturally detested the idea, and to be honest I don't blame her. A woman such as Clare should not be a rebound, or left to the side. She should be loved eternally and wholly, and not have to settle on shared feelings."

The two sat in silence for a while then, Teresa taking note of everything Zevran had just told her. No wonder why Clare was still so bitter towards the man. He'd crushed her heart, even if he didn't necessarily mean to. At the moment where he had tried to cling onto whatever was remaining of their relationship, he had inevitably lost her, pushing her away further with his options. It wasn't any wonder why things ended up the way they were at present between the two of them. Teresa couldn't help but note Zevran's comments on the matter though. It was as if the elf had his own hidden feelings for Clare, but he had kept them locked away while she continued to silently mourn the love she had lost.

"After all this time, it still feels good that I punched him the night he hurt her in that way."

Teresa turned to look at Zevran sharply once he'd broken the silence that had overtaken them, shock evident in her eyes once again.

"You hit the King?!"

"_Before_ he was King," Zevran smirked, happy with the reaction he had received. "Clare had run away fighting back tears – although she'd never dare to admit it herself – and I was hardly going to keep my disgust hidden. I had practically let Alistair have her with little difficulty, thinking he wouldn't be stupid enough to let her go. But instead, he did that very thing."

"Let him have her – Zevran, excuse me for saying this but, do you perhaps have ... feelings for Clare?"

Zevran let out a laugh, obviously amused by what Teresa had asked. Teresa however didn't understand why he was laughing, and frowned in response. She didn't think her question was all that funny, but then again Zevran would be Zevran. He looked at her after a moment, and shook his head.

"As much as the flirt I was to her back then, it only was for two reasons. One being, she is a very beautiful woman, and I am attracted to such."

"Zevran: you're attracted to anything with two legs and a heartbeat." The young warden replied whilst raising an eyebrow, receiving yet another smirk from the elf.

"Ah, how well you know me my dear Teresa. Although when you say it like that, it's as if you suggest that I am easy to –"

"Oh, we are _not_ having this conversation. Just – explain what your other reasoning was."

Zevran chuckled slightly again, noting how quickly Teresa had diverted the conversation. He shrugged, and then answered her question.

"Alistair was easy to torment. As I said, he was the lovesick puppy more than she at the beginning – although she probably just never showed her own feelings openly as Clare felt she had an image to upkeep, what with being the leader of our small party. He was an easy target, and it was too much fun not to tease him about such things."

"And so he became your pray. Your plaything until he decided to grow a backbone? That is so like you Zevran."

"Quite, but if you had been in that situation – you would have agreed that it was rather entertaining also." He sighed, and turned his gaze to the ground beneath him. "I have been, and still remain nothing but a friend to Clare, and that is good enough for me. I owe her my life, and she was the only person who half trusted me at one point in time. When he hurt her – of course I wasn't going to sit by and leave things as they were. I stay by her side and help her, because as much as she will probably fail to admit it, she needs a friend beside her."

Teresa nodded, her own gaze falling to that of the ground also as Zevran's tale came to it's close. She contemplated everything he had told her, and closed her eyes. No wonder why they had never spoken about the past often. Not only had it hurt Clare, but just by Zevran's description, the whole event must have hurt him and their other friends too. She couldn't imagine what it would be like, to see a group broken up because of two people's fates pulling them apart from each other. Teresa suddenly felt like she wished she'd never asked, but at the same time she was glad. Glad because now, she could sympathise with the situation more – and treat it in a more sensitive manner.

She pulled her gaze up off the ground and watched from across the camp, noticing Alistair still sitting by the fire. As angry as everyone was with him, Teresa couldn't help but notice that – in actual fact – none of it was Alistair's fault. Not really. If he had ever loved Clare half as much as Zevran had described, then chances are he only ever acted in a way in which he thought was the best for her, for _them_ as a couple.

After what felt like an age, Teresa felt her eyelids begin to fall heavy with sleep. She wasn't sure how long she and Zevran had spoken for, but it must have been longer then they both realised.

"I think I'm going to retire to my tent for the night," She spoke as she rose to her feet. She looked down at Zevran, who remained sitting on the ground. "Sorry for prying, I know now it really wasn't any of my business to ask about whatever happened in the past."

Zevran didn't move, and merely shook his head in reply as he turned his gaze to look up at her.

"No. Even though it all happened in the past, it's not something that can be forgotten easily. You're along on this journey also, and you're a good friend of Clare's. You deserved to know, as a way to be prepared for the complete and utter hell that is to bound to unravel from those two being in the same _presence_ as one another once again."

Teresa smirked at the last comment, knowing all too well that Zevran wasn't only _just_ joking with it and that there was some truth to what he had said.

"Right, I'll be sure to steer clear whenever something bad is about to happen." She nodded in response, the smirk still lingering on her face. "Not sure I want to get caught in the crossfire – not after the scene that played out this morning."

"That would be very sensible. I might hide with you when that happens."

She merely rolled her eyes and sighed then, understanding what the elf before her_ really_ meant with that comment.

"_Goodnight_ Zevran," She replied as she turned on her heel and walked towards her tent, leaving the elf to grin to himself.

* * *

_: ) And so now we know Zevran's side of the whole ordeal, and a little bit more about some of our other characters. _

_Chapter 7 will be up as soon as possible. Feel free to leave a review if you liked this chapter, that button likes making new friends ~_


	7. Yet Another Dispute

_This took longer to update then I thought it would, mostly because this chapter kept giving me problems -_- Which is why, it is amazingly smaller then the rest of the other chapters D: Trust me, you'll see why it is as such._

_This chapter is told from Clare's POV again. So, read on ~ (and yes - the lyrics are from Shrek. I always have the song in my head when characters go on an adventure, lol)._

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:7  
__"I'm on my way from misery to happiness today._  
_I'm on my way to what I want from this world,_  
_and years from now you'll make it to the next world._  
_And everything that you receive up yonder,_  
_is what you gave to me the day I wandered"_

_-_

"We'll make camp here for the night," Clare said suddenly, after the group had stopped walking for a few moments. She was too busy looking up at the sky to notice Alistair's confused expression behind her.

"We're camping? Now?"

Clare turned around when she heard him questioning her, a look of annoyance on her face. Why would she say they were camping, if they weren't going to do exactly that? And more importantly, why was he even questioning her decision? A small frown appeared on her face.

"Yes, that's what I said. We'll camp here, and then carry on our journey tomorrow."

Still, that reply didn't seem enough to throw him off whatever point he was trying to make. Clare should have guessed, they'd been travelling for a week and the little conversations the two had shared would often end in some sort of disagreement.

"But – the wilds aren't even that far away. If we continue walking, we should be able to reach their in only a few hours."

"Ah so, your map reading skills have improved since the last time we all travelled together," came Zevran's voice from beside Clare.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the rest of their group around her putting their belongings on the ground, some already beginning to prepare their tents. At least _they_ were following orders, unlike a certain someone.

"The last time I remember we followed your map reading skills, we took a wrong turning and ended up walking straight into a rather large dragon's lair. And it was not a pretty situation to remember."

Clare remembered the experience that Zevran was talking about. When they were searching for the urn of sacred ashes, the group had met a maze of underground tunnels buried within the small village of Haven. Alistair had believed that his instincts were telling them to go down one certain tunnel – one that wasn't marked on the not so useful map they had been provided. Still, they had agreed to take his advice, but soon found themselves in a dead end; with dragons. Lots of dragons. It really wasn't an experience that Clare herself wanted to relive, and just thinking back to that whole situation, she mentally told herself that they were _not_ to trust Alistair's instincts within the wilds. Maker knows what kind of nightmarish disaster they'd walk into if they did.

"Yes well, that's not the point. In fact – I'm not even sure what prompted the dragon cave adventure topic to be brought up." Clare noticed as Alistair shot a glare at Zevran, who in return merely shrugged before he walked off. "Anyway-" he turned back to Clare then, continuing on from whatever it was he was trying to say beforehand. "The point _is_ you wanted to reach the wilds as quickly as possible, so why are we camping when we can get to the wilds today?"

Well, Clare couldn't deny that Alistair was partly right there. She did want this 'adventure' to be over as quickly as possible, but as a leader – she knew that it would be unwise for them to enter the wilds right away. In reply, she rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms.

"Because, _your highness_, it would be unwise. We've been walking for a number of hours today as it is, and the group is fatigued enough as it is. It would be much wiser to make camp here and now, and recuperate our energy, then to carry on walking only to _then_ walk into the danger that is the wilds. You know as well as I do how dangerous a place it is even when you aren't tired, so think about how worse it would be if we just blindly walk in their as we are now. We don't know what else lurks there for starters, and if that wasn't enough of a reason to camp now-" Claire turned slightly and pointed to the sky, where a dark blob of clouds could be seen from the distance. "Then _that_ should be. By my calculations, the rain will reach us in an hour or two. I'm not sure about you, but I don't really want to continue travelling to such an unpredictable place in such weather, not when we could put it off till tomorrow."

Clare watched Alistair's expression as he thought about all she had just told him. She couldn't help but admit to herself that she wished that they could just make it to the wilds that day, but at the same time Clare couldn't ignore what was best for the others in her group. Even with experience, the other grey wardens were less experienced then the both her and Alistair, and part of her anticipated that the wilds would be a rather larger test for them. Her own instincts told her that stopping now would be a good idea, and probably more beneficial as it would provide a night for them to prepare themselves for any combat they were likely to encounter.

Clare was so deep in thought then that she almost missed Alistair's nod in agreement, and only noticed when he was continuing to speak.

"Yes of course, I – didn't even think about it like that."

_Of course he didn't _Clare heard her mind say. _He always decided that running headfirst into trouble was better than waiting around 90% of the time._ Instead of voicing her thoughts however, she merely sighed and turned her back to him.

"Good, well now that you see it from my point of view – get yourself sorted and help with preparing the camp. And _don't_ question what I think is best for this group again."

Clare didn't wait for a reply, and instead walked off to help set up camp herself. There was still a lot for them to sort out even if they weren't entering the wilds till the next day, such as finding firewood to create a fire, and finding some source of food for that night's meal. Not to mention she'd want to look over her plans and prepare herself for when they did enter the wilds the next day.

She didn't catch Alistair's sigh of defeat as she walked off, nor did she catch Teresa walking over to him soon after, although she did hear them murmuring about something. Deciding she wasn't interested in finding out, Clare decided to turn and talk to one of the other wardens instead, giving them instructions to search for some firewood.

* * *

_Chapter 8 will be up - much quicker than this chapter was. ( by that I mean **tomorrow** ). And, I think you guys might like that chapter alot more. ;)  
_

_Feel free to review this chapter if you liked it, reviews are like cookies to me._


	8. Step One: Conversations

_I promised you a chapter today, an even longer chapter - and here it is :D_

_Before I continue however, I feel I should clear something up. Alistair - at this point in the story, is married. There was some time not covered between chapters 2 + 3, and chapter 2 was meant more as a catch up over the major things that had changed. Sorry if I didn't make that clear, you'll have to put up with Queen Marina for a while D:  
_

_Anyway that was then, this is now the present of the story. Have a chapter, told from Alistair's perspective. It's about time we got to see what his brain was working on thinking. I hope you enjoy this chapter guys ~_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:8_

_"__There's no time for us,  
there's no place for us.  
What is this thing that builds our dreams yet slips away from us?  
Who wants to live forever?__"_

_-_

It was night time, and – as Clare had predicted it was raining. The group escaped to their tents just shortly after dinner when the rain had begun, an excuse for them all to have an early night and prepare for tomorrow – or so Clare would have argued. Alistair on the other hand, was not sleeping. Too much was going on in his mind to allow him that luxury. In truth, he'd slept very little that whole week, and he knew exactly what the reason for that was.

The short conversation he'd had with Teresa shortly after Clare had stormed off continued to play on repeat in his mind, and he couldn't help but think that perhaps it was the small shred of hope he'd been wishing for so badly and for so long.

* * *

_Alistair sighed in defeat as he watched the warden commander walk away from him yet again. Of course, she had many a reasons to be mad at him, after everything he'd done and the fact that he'd pushed himself in to join them all on this journey. But part of him still wished that he could have a somewhat civil conversation with her, and by civil he meant one where she didn't appear to want to tear his head off, or that she wouldn't look at him as if she were ready to stab him to death. _

_He wasn't aware that he had company by his side until the person standing there began to speak._

"_You know ... the fact that she's talking to you at all is _somewhat_ of an achievement." _

_He jumped slightly, and turned to see Teresa standing there, smiling slightly. Alistair sighed again, and rubbed the back of his neck._

"_Achievement? And I suppose you're going to tell me next that death glares secretly mean 'let's be the best of friends', right?"_

_Teresa's smile only grew slightly bigger, and Alistair watched as she switched which foot she was leaning on._

"_You might joke about it but – in a way you're sort of right."_

"_I am? Now I really am confused. Do I live in a place where everything means something different? Because last time I checked, we weren't all working in a backwards language."_

"_Well, you __probably__ sort of do, but only because you don't understand how the opposite sex act." _

_Alistair continued to watch Teresa, his confusion only growing more evident on his face. The girl was right, he had no idea how women worked. He only ever came close once, and he managed to screw that up – leaving more confused than he ever was before. The conversation he was having with the younger warden now was enough of an indicator on that. Teresa merely sighed herself then, and continued to talk. _

"_Look, I can tell you one thing about knowing how angry a woman is with you, it's pretty obvious really." She paused slightly, obviously waiting for some sort of answer. Obviously noting that Alistair wasn't going to reply – mostly because he had no idea what to say in reply – she carried on. "I don't what to pry into whatever happened between the two of you in the past, but it must have hurt her. Alot." Alistair winced then as he remembered the past, but decided to bury it into the back of his mind, instead focusing on what Teresa had to say. "She's still mad – obviously you already know that by the amount of times she snaps at you in a single day. However; she's not as angry as I think you think she is."_

_Another pause and Alistair's confusion only grew. _

"_Err really? Are we still talking about the same person here? What makes you think she's not as angry as I think she is – however angry that may be in my mind?"_

"_Well, for many reasons. For one, you're here on this journey. As much as Clare may have voiced her dislike on the subject, she soon gave in to her own stubbornness and agreed to have you along. Sure, she wasn't overly happy nor pleased with the idea – but you and I both know that she could have turned you away regardless of other peoples thoughts on the subject. And a second indicator, a much simpler one to spot – she still talks to you. Clare could easily ignore you're very existence if she chose to."_

"_After a year of not speaking, of no contact ... that doesn't seem like much of an achievement."_

"_Still, it _is_ an achievement. If you look at it from my point of view. However small it is, at least she is facing you." _

_Alistair contemplated the thought for a moment, but then Teresa continued to speak._

"_Of course, it takes time and effort to fix things that are broken. But if people are willing – things can be fixed. Perhaps not to the level they were in the past, but things can be fixed all the same."_

_Silence overcame the two of a minute, and Alistair stared at the ground. There was truth in Teresa's words. Well, he didn't believe the part on Clare not being as angry as he thought – because she seemed pretty terrifyingly angry to him. But time being the healer for broken wounds? That had to be right, didn't it? After all, isn't it as they say – time heals all wounds, regardless of what types of wounds they were?_

"_I – only want us to go back to being friends." He replied; a frown on his face as he continued to look down at the ground. _

_Alistair noticed Teresa's smile turn to have a hint of sadness in it as she nodded, walking forward to him slightly to put a hand over his arm._

"_Then aim for that. Talk to her sometime, not about the task at hand – but something else. Start small, and over time, your friendship will blossom again. It'll take time, but it will work. If you believe it will."_

_She left him then, left him to be lost in his thoughts for the remainder of the day. _

_

* * *

  
_

Teresa was right, Alistair could see that. He needed to try harder if he wanted any sort of friendship with Clare again. Nitpicking about her decisions wouldn't work; it would only aggravate her more. But maker, where would he start? After a year apart, he felt like he didn't know her anymore. How much had she changed as a person since the last time they were together? And if she hadn't changed, how much had _he_ changed? When would he know where the boundary was? Could she still take his pathetic excuse for jokes? Or where his instincts right the first time around? Could it be that, she was so angry – she actually wanted him out of her life, for good?

Alistair had to admit it to himself – he was frightened. He knew what he wanted; well he'd _always _known, ever since the day they'd met each other. But fate had a horribly way of taking away the only few things he honestly ever truly wanted in his life. But, he knew one thing. Alistair didn't want Clare out of his life totally. Even if they could never be together as a couple, he wanted her there somewhere in his life, even if it was ever only to be the role as close friends between the two of them. Having known such a person existed in the world, he didn't want to lose them in his life, even if that's the exact thing he'd done in the past year when all contact between the two was broken.

Sighing, he got up. He wasn't going to sleep that night anyway, so he wasn't sure why he was even bothering with trying to be honest. Alistair walked over to the front of his tent and opened it slightly. The rain had died down significantly, only now drizzling slightly. It was a good sign, meaning that the group wouldn't have to trek in rain water as well as a muddy terrain tomorrow.

He looked over to where Clare's tent was located, and saw a faint light from it, indicating that she was still awake as well. For a single moment then, Alistair felt like he did the first time he knew he was developing feelings for the woman across the way from him. Nerves were bundled up inside him. This time however, he'd try and control them more. He stood where he was for a moment longer, arguing with himself in his mind if it was a good idea for him to talk to her or not. After all, he didn't want to make her any angrier – if that was even possible. In the end, he mustered up his courage, and walked over to the tent on the other side of the campsite.

Once Alistair had reached her tent, he stood outside awkwardly for a few moments. Part of him was tempted to try knocking on it, but then he remembered that tents weren't doors, and nothing really would happen even if he did knock on it. Alistair thought that she probably knew he was out there, or that someone was at least – what with the light from inside her tent casting shadows. Maybe he should just ... turn back and attempt to go back to sleep. Surely that would be a better idea. They could always talk later-

And that's when it hit him. They couldn't talk later. When was he ever going to get this opportunity again to speak to her? Tomorrow they'd be on their way to the wilds, and when they finally reached the monstrous nightmare of a place, all their attention would be faced on staying alive, searching for darkspawn and being prepared for anything remotely unexpected. The nights they would make camp would be limited, only to hasten stamina and prepare till they find what they were looking for. They could talk on the journey back, but would that even be enough time to try and fix anything? For all he knew, Alistair could put his foot in it even more then he already had – and knowing him he probably would.

"What are you doing?"

Alistair nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to look at the head that had emerged from the tent he was standing at. Clare looked neither shocked nor concerned as to why he was there, in fact her face held a rather blank emotion, which is something that was rare to see for her.

"Err, well -" Alistair wanted to kick himself in that moment. Was he ever going to grow out of this nervousness he seemed to have? Probably not. Instead he sighed, and continued speaking. "I – I was wondering if perhaps we could ... talk? Only – if you're not busy or, you're not tired or anything. Because if you are I'll go straight back to my tent and I won't bother you for the remainder of the night." Oh maker he was blabbering again.

Clare merely raised one of her eyebrows in some sort of surprise at his request, and Alistair was sure he was going to get a response that would somehow play out like 'you and me talk? Don't think so buddy.' He was almost expecting to be told to go back to his tent where he could battle with his stupid mind, and the stupid ideas that he often came up with.

"If you must."

Alistair blinked then and looked back at Clare, who had already retreated back into her tent, although leaving it open. Well that had to be ... some start? Looking around him, he climbed in, not wanting to wait for too long before she changed or mind – or worse: he did.

The tent was rather small, but similar to the one she used to have when they were travelling around Ferleden together in the past. Only this time however the place seemed to be littered with more paper than usual. Alistair just considered this as her taking every moment she possibly could to do her job as a grey warden commander, and the quill next to something she had been writing on before he walked in was proof of that. Maybe this wasn't the best time to talk to her after all.

"What is it you wanted to talk about?"

He blinked and turned to her, noticing that her face was still as much of a blank canvas as it had been before. He shook his head, removing himself from his mind that just wouldn't stop thinking too much.

"I was just – hoping that, we could ... chat? I'm not really sure what about, or where to start."

Claire uncrossed her arms, and Alistair noticed a look of confusion creap onto her face.

"You – want a chat? But you don't know what about? What does that mean to me, I surley don't know what you want to talk about, your majest-"

"Stop."

He saw her look up at him now, and they exchanged eye contact for a few moments. Clare titled her head to the side, as if she we're preparing to ask some sort of question.

"Why? That is your title now – is it not?"

Alistair shuffled on his feet, only feeling even more nervous.

"That's true but – I don't want to hear it. Not from you. It just, doesn't seem right – not after everything..."

"After everything we've been through?" Clare finished for him. He watched her expression, not moving himself, and after a still moment she shook her head. "_Everything_? Surely that would be indication enough that I'm the perfect person who should be calling you by your title and not your name, considering how everything between us died long ago."

"I – didn't come for this argument Clare, not again. Maker, I didn't come to argue at all," Alistair looked at her sadly, almost pleading to her to not provoke this discussion again.

"Well, why did you come then? Why did you visit me – and don't say it was just for a chat. In fact, perhaps you can answer why you're even on this _mission_. After so long without contact, you honestly expect me to believe you tagged along just because we asked for help-"

"I did contact! I really did." Alistair frowned then, interrupting her rant. "_You_ were the one that disappeared all of a sudden. You didn't even turn up at the coronation. I sent you letters - only to recieve no reply to any of them. I just figured you were still too angry with me to reply, and took it as a sign to leave you alone. You never came to deliver reports from the grey wardens, instead sending out oother newer recurits instead. I never saw you once after you'd disappeared. It was almost as if you'd left the face of the earth, but I knew you couldn't have because someone would have known."

"That's because I _was_ still mad and wait -" She paused, frowning herself then. "You sent letters?"

Alistair looked at her and nodded.

"Yes. I was terrified. So much was happening day in and day out and – there was hardly anyone to talk too who I knew or trusted – save for Wynne who had decided to stay in the palace. I wanted to talk to _you_ – about _anything_. I wanted a friend, and you were the first person who came to my mind when I thought about it. But when I got no reply I thought you'd just decided to ignore the letters and pretend I didn't exist."

They stood in silence for a moment then, and then Clare replied, her voice quieter than it had been before.

"I didn't get any letters."

Alistair's expression grew, shock shaking him. She hadn't received ... anything?

"You didn't? Not one of them? Not even the wedding invitation?"

He noticed that Clare nearly burst out laughing then at his reply.

"I most definitely did not receive any invitation. Not that I would have gone to your wedding anyway but –" Her face went back to that look of confusion yet again. "I still have no idea about the letters though ..."

Alistair was beyond confusion then. Still, it was probably a good thing she didn't receive the invitation, which was pretty much a bad idea anyway, as Wynne had warned him. But he had sent one to Zevran also. Maker he'd sent one to everyone, wanting the group to be together again, hoping that the reunion with old friends would have fixed something, or at least had some sort of effect. To know she had not received that, and nor the letters also, Alistair wasn't sure what to think about that.

"Well, I sent them to where you were, and I highly doubt they could have just, got lost..."

In that moment they both looked at each other, realization dawning on their faces.

"Zevran." They said in union.

"That bastard, why would he do that?"

"Probably because he thought it was the kindest thing to do then. As I said, I was _very_ angry at you back then - part of me still is, although it's not as strong a feeling as it used to be. Zevran probably thought that, hearing from you would only fuel my emotions more, or not allow me to move on. He wouldn't take them for any other reason."

"Hmm, you really believe that?"

"Oh stop it Alistair, Zevran's been nothing but a good friend to me all this time. I know he doesn't hold any feelings for me anymore, so don't even suggest it."

Alistair couldn't help but smile then. Not at what Clare had said; which is probably what she thought when she caught sight of his grin.

"What are you grinning like a cat for? Surely my relationship status with others is of no concern to you anymore-"

"I wasn't grinning because of that." He said, stepping toward her slightly. "I was grinning, because you used my _name_ – and not my title."

He watched Clare's face as she played the sentence over in her mind again, and he wanted to laugh at her expression when the realisation set in. She tried to shrug it off by turning her back to him and crossing her arms. Both Alistair and she knew the trick wasn't working well.

"I just – I forgot where I was okay? It won't happen again."

Alistair stood where he was, staring at her back. After a moment, his gaze shifted to the ground.

"I – kind of wish it would. I don't like the formality my title brings, especially since I'd prefer to be 'just Alistair'. Especially around you."

Clare turned around sharply then, and Alistair met her gaze, noting the change in atmosphere in the room that had suddenly occurred. Part of him felt like he'd said something wrong then, but he couldn't work out which part of it the sentence it was which had activated her response.

"Alistair-"

"See, that's the second time already in the space of a few minutes."

"Don't do this."

She tore her gaze then and looked away. Now he _really_ knew he'd done something wrong.

"Do what?"

"Whatever it is you're trying to do. If you're trying to push your way back into my life then, don't."

Alistair's face filled with pain then, and he thought he felt part of his own heart shatter. Not for himself, but for her. How much had he really hurt her? He knew it was bad but - was it truly as bad as what he was witnessing now? She was always trying to be so strong, trying to push away her own emotions whilst at the same time coping with the problems and emotions of others. Alistair had always admired her strength in that department, and yet, what did that do to her? Hiding all her true feelings, her true pain - even he knew it was never good for one person to do that. Especially over a long period of time.

"Is there no hope of us being friends again?"

Clare looked up at him then, her face showing both confusion and shock at the same time.

"Wh-what?"

Alistair sighed, and began to fidget uncomfortably again.

"I – I guess that's what I really wanted to talk to you about. It's all I've wanted to talk to you about really, for the longest time now. The thing is – I still care about you. Alot. But, I don't want to hurt you like I did before in the past, never again. I miss you, more than anything. I miss having you in my life."

Clare's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"We can't – Alistair we can't. It's – it's just not possible."

Alistair almost shot to her side then, knowing instantly she was getting the wrong idea. Oh maker, he wasn't stupid enough to demand _that_ of her again. He still didn't understand why he'd suggested such an idea in the first place, when they were in that nightmarish situation.

"Clare, I'm not asking for _that_. I'm not asking for – for us to return to the past, because I know how unfair it is for you, and that chances are - we can never return to what we were. I just -" He grabbed her hands then, hoping – praying – that it wasn't the wrong move on his part. "I'm generally asking if there's any sign of hope. Hope for us to be friends. For us to be there for each other, as friends. Nothing more. I want you in my life, but not as a deep scar of the past. I want whatever is left between us to be fixed, before I lose you forever."

They sat in silence then; and it wasn't until that moment that Alistair noticed he was on his knees, looking down at their hands clasped together. He couldn't bring himself to look Clare in the face; for fear that she would push him away then and there. The one person who had meant anything in his life, who he would do anything for. If she asked him to leave, he would. He'd be broken, but he'd leave without complaint.

He felt one of her hands break from his grasp, only to rest on top of his. He looked up then, and saw her smiling sadly.

"We'll see."

And to Alistair, that was enough. That small ray of hope was all he needed.

* * *

_Eep, you can't blame a guy for trying._

_Chapter 9 will be up soon, until then - review if you liked this chapter. Reviews are like cheese for Alistair - but they prompt me to write more :3_


	9. Lost In Thoughts

_Yes - I know. This is later than I originally wanted up myself :( But, I actually hit a wall with this chapter. I had no idea how to write this, and - it was a nightmare to write . So if this chapter sucks, sorry. I'll make it up in the next chapter, somehow :)_

_Also, to those that asked - I have gone over the previous chapters and replaced some of the errors that people pointed out. Thank you for telling me about them. _

_Anyway - back to Clare's perspective - here's the next chappy._

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:9  
"I'm just one of those ghosts,  
travelling endlessly.  
I don't need a road,  
in fact they follow you.  
And we just go in circles."_

_-_

Clare stopped in her tracks for what felt like the tenth time that morning, scraping the mud that had managed to build up on her boots as the group continued to trek closer towards the wilds. They were almost there, the wilds becoming ever more visible with every step they took. Clare predicted they would properly reach the outskirts soon enough, give or take the stopping to clean the build up of sloppy mud from off of their boots. As glad as she was that it was no longer raining, she couldn't help but wish that the rain had at least not left such a horrible slush on the ground. Still, giving the circumstances – it could have been much worse. Standing up straight then, she looked around the group and; noticing that everyone was waiting, she continued to walk on, the group following not too far behind her. Hopefully, another stop wouldn't be needed and they would reach the wilds in no time at all.

The group had been walking on their journey for about two hours now, and very little conversation had been made. Well, to Clare it seemed that way at least, who was stuck in her own thoughts for the majority of the journey. No matter what she did she couldn't stop her mind trailing off into deep thought, even if she attempted to ignore the topic that it decide to divert to her attention to. As much as she wanted to shut her mind off, it simply refused to do so – and instead continued to replay last night's conversation over and over again.

To say she was confused about the whole situation would be very much an understatement, for Clare was confused about a lot of things lately. One, she was confused about what had even prompted Alistair to start such a topic, especially with how she'd been treating him lately. The endless amounts of short, snappy comments she'd left him hadn't gone unnoticed not even to herself – and Clare was sure that they were doing to trick in helping to show that she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the man. But, other than that Clare was confused about something much larger; her own feelings. Of course, she had cared for – _loved_ the man once; and part of her knew that she still held those very feelings locked away, the key to which was thrown so far away into the past she couldn't open it by herself even if she tried. Over the course of time since their break up, Clare was convinced that she was fuelled by anger with him, and for various reasons to. She was mad at him for what he'd suggested – for what had become of them after they both _promised_ to stay together till the end. In a way, she'd felt that he'd betrayed her; that he'd betrayed _both_ of them, and she thought that was part of the reason why she was so deeply hurt; why she was left wondering if she'd ever completely heal. Over time she soon found herself learning that what had happened was infact for the best, but she still couldn't stop herself feeling angry and upset about it. She thought she'd always carry some portion of that resentment around with her. That was; until last night's conversation.

_"Is there no hope of us being friends again?"_

That. That simple question. It had managed to affect Clare more than she thought possible. Her clever vizard that had taken so long for her to create had all but shattered for a split second then. The question, mixed with the look of defeat on Alistair's face made Clare feel like she'd been punched in the stomach. All the anger she thought she held towards him seemed to diminish for a moment, and her mind went blank. Nothing seemed clear then. What had she been mad about? Why where they in the very situation that they found themselves a part of? What did she want for herself?

And then she knew. She knew why the anger had lingered for so long, why she held such bitterness within her. And with Alistair in front of her, talking to her the way she never thought the two of them would talk again – she felt some puzzle pieces slot themselves back into place.

But then her mind woke up again, and she was brought to the real world. The world where nothing worked out as it should, as how it would in tales that were passed down from generation to generation, and instead all that is ever left of a person is the constant feeling of confusion within them. A feeling that they would forever be destined to carry around with them.

"Clare!"

Clare blinked, looking around in the direction that the voice had come from. She came face to face with Zevran, a look of slight concern written on his face. She shook her head; pulling herself out of – whatever the hell it was she was thinking about previously.

"Yes Zevran," She asked, putting a hand up to her head as if she were suffering from a headache. In a way – she kind of _was_. Her mind was still swimming with a hundred and one different things, not one of them making that much sense to her. "What is it?"

"I was just checking you were still with us. You look as if you've been deep in your own thoughts for a while now. Would I be correct?"

Clare turned her gaze to look at him them, still noticing him staring at her. She sighed, and crossed her arms.

"Yes – you would. I didn't think I was causing that much of a problem for everyone."

"Well you weren't. In fact, I think half the group were oblivious to it. However, having known you for as long as I have – It's become pretty obvious when you're in this world, and when you're not." She felt his gaze on him still as she looked around; noticing the rest of her group had stopped once again, another chance to remove the mud build-up on their boots. Obviously noticing he wasn't getting a reply, Zevran continued speaking. "Normally, I'd leave you to contemplate about whatever it is that's troubling you – but seeing as we're so close to the wilds, I'd worry if I did so."

Clare smirked then, feeling herself return to her normal, warrior persona slightly. She looked around her, and noticed that in fact – they were just outside of the wilds.

"I get it Zevran – if I remain buried in my thoughts it would be hazardous for whatever may be lurking within." She turned to look back at him then, noticing the concerned look fading slightly. "I'll be fine; you don't have to worry about me being of any trouble to the mission at hand."

"If you say so. I was only concerned about you falling in battle due to your lack of concentration on whatever may be around you, or what foes we could possibly encounter."

"And that won't happen. I promise I will be on the alert from now on."

They both stood in silence for a while, until Zevran broke his gaze and gathered up his swords from the ground again.

"Very well. Let us prepare to enter this mess of a disaster while we are all still conscious enough to do so."

Clare nodded as the rest of the group walked over, ready to enter the wilds behind her. She clutched her sword tighter then, feeling herself fall back into the leader role that she had become so accustomed to.

"Right, shall we proceed?"

"Let's get this over with. The sooner we're rid of these pests the sooner we can be out of here." Came the voice of one of warden recruits that had come along on the mission.

Clare almost laughed at the outburst, feeling the same as he did about the situation at hand. Turning on her heel as her cape flew in the wind, she began to step into the nightmarish area, the rest of the group following after her. She only hoped she could keep her word, and prevent her mind from pulling her away from what she needed to concentrate the most on: the here and now.

* * *

_Because - I thought we needed some time in Clare's mind. _

_If you liked this - random chapter - then feel free to review. And I will try to get the next chapter up sooner then this one was up, lol :)  
_


	10. The Wilds

_And finally, our group is actually in the wilds. : )_

_Here's chapter 1O, the nightmare of the wilds is only beginning to unfold ~_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:10_

_  
"Draw another picture of the life you could have had,  
follow your instincts and choose the other path.  
You should never be afraid,_

_You're protected from trouble and pain."_

-

The wilds were still as unruly and unpredictable a place as Clare had remembered. With every turn she took she felt even more uncomfortable, as if something we're either following her or watching her as the group proceeded deeper into the nest of the unknown. She could understand now why Zevran had been so concerned about her being too absorbed in her thoughts, the very thought of one wrong move costing too much pulling her into full concentration as the group had continued to travel. They were silent, so as not to alert too much attention to themselves, and at the same time trying to sense in which direction the darkspawn were residing in. Clare found herself silently praying, wanting anything but to walk into something that could inevitably end up worse than what they had come to search for. She had heard the stories of the wilds as well as the rest of them had, tales of how people had stepped into the wilds only to never return again. Clare; although having had experience of the area around her, did not want to hang around too long to find a tale would be made of herself or her group.

As the group became weary and tired, they found shelter beneath a rather larger fallen tree. If there was one positive aspect of being in the wilds at all, it was that there was never a shortage of shelter in which to reside in for a short period of time. After judging if the area was at all safe to remain in, and it passing that very inspection, they built a small fire in which to keep themselves warm – only now when they could relax slightly realising how bitter cold the air was around them. Not wanting to trust the skills of hunting for food on their first night within the wilds, Clare had resorted to providing the group with food she had packed prior to the journey. What with it being much darker now that it had been previously, Clare didn't want the chance for someone to go hunting, only to either get lost, end up facing a terrifying foe, or worse: actually capturing something they thought would be edible, only to find it was poisonous or harmful otherwise. They could after all, hunt when they continued their search early the next morning, when it would be lighter – and easier to notice things that were both cookable and edible, whilst remaining harmless to them at the same time.

Until then Clare sat by the fire, joined by the rest of the group around her. She had wrapped a small, slightly tatty blanket around herself. Of course, everyone could feel the chill – but Clare felt it the worse. She knew herself it was properly to do with her armour, and how, even though it served its purpose well, it failed in the department of keeping her warm. She had often been criticised for wearing such armour, often being told that it wasn't 'practical' for combat. Still, such armour had served her this long – she wasn't going to change it now.

The group was silent for a while, taking the time to warm themselves by the fire. Clare merely glared into the flames, pulling the blanket closer to her. She was trying to think, of what they should do now, and how they should remain cautious without wasting time. She had a few ideas, but her mind was choosing still, deciding which one was the best out of all of them to use. Teresa; who was sitting next to her, moved slightly, and broke Clare's chain of thought. She turned to the girl, sensing that she wanted to say something.

"Clare, what are we going to do about keeping watch for the night?"

The rest of the group turned to look at Teresa then who had spoken, all sharing the same sort of expression on their face. Clare was about to speak up then, when Zevran interrupted her.

"I will keep first watch for the first half the night. It is up to the rest of you to decide who will keep second watch."

Clare shook her head then, and quickly answered before anyone else could volunteer for the second watch.

"No."

The group changed their glance over to her then, looking slightly shocked.

"No." Clare repeated again. "We will still be having a watch of course, but I think for tonight – two people should be on watch at the same time. I will not accept one person to be on watch duty alone, maker forbid. In such a place as this one, It would be mad to keep one person on guard alone at a time; while the rest of the group just sleeps."

There was silence for a moment, until Zevran nodded slowly in agreement.

"A true sign of leadership there," he complimented. "Then I will remain taking the first watch, and I'm sure one of your – younger recruits would be more than happy to _accompany_ me."

Clare rolled her eyes. Yes, of course Zevran would make one of his normal jokes. He must be the only elf she knew that would be sitting in the wilds of all places, and still be able to add some essence of humour to the situation. Still, she silently thanked him in her mind for offering to take up the first watch – and slightly glad that she'd suggested two people would be on watch at the same time. After all, Zevran was the only one out of the whole group who was not a warden – and therefore could not sense any oncoming darkspawn on his own. If he was left to keep watch by himself in such a treacherous place, Clare would only worry for her friend's safety.

"Well now that's one thing sorted ..." Clare broke out of her thoughts once again as she heard Alistair begin to speak, and noticed from the corner of her eye that he was watching her – in a way in which he was trying to pass off as discreet. "What's going to happen when we set off to search tomorrow? I'm sure you've given some thought to the whole situation. What are we going to be doing? Are we splitting up into groups or not?"

Clare merely shook her head yet again. Of course, the thought of them splitting into two groups as a way of covering more ground had occurred to her, but with how small a group they were as it was, she didn't feel it was such wise a move to follow.

"No. We will stay all together. Although splitting into groups could hasten how quickly we find the darkspawn, we're not entirely sure of what to be prepared for. And of course, if we did split up, we'd have to set up a place of rendezvous. No, I think it would be better if we all stuck together. After all, they do say that strength lies in numbers, do they not?"

Clare almost felt the sigh of relief from Alistair, properly from the fact that she hadn't attacked him with her words as she had been known to do a lot lately.

"Yes, that does make sense. I only asked in case you wanted to cover more ground as we travelled."

"I did think about it, but instead decided that the cost of doing so could outweigh the benefit of that idea. After all, I purposely selected this group due to the fact everyone has a mixed level and set of abilities; some which will manage to work towards our advantage where some could hinder us if we don't use our skills in the correct manner. It just wouldn't be the right move to split up. Instead, we should work together and use our strengths and weaknesses as a collective group. I believe that is the way to reach the darkspawn both quickly and swiftly. After all, I don't know if it's just me but – I can sense them. Sort of." Clare frowned slightly as she stopped talking then.

"You are not alone Clare," She turned to look at Teresa, who had decided to speak up once again. "We can all sense them, and yes – they are out there. I'm judging you sense them as faintly as I do, informing us that there is still a while ago until we run headlong into them."

"Yes, that's what I sensed also. There still too far away. My instincts tell me that it will take a few days until we finally reach them. So until then; if everyone is in agreement," Clare turned to look upon the faces of the group sitting around the fire, all looking at her as she continued to speak, save Zevran who had taken interest in leaning his back against the wall of the fallen tree with his arms crossed. "We shall proceed as a group, and continue to do so. Does anyone have any objections?"

The group didn't argue, but instead nodded and murmured in agreement. Clare turned back to look at Zevran, who merely shrugged in response, uncrossing his arms.

"It would be pointless for me to argue with you, my friend. I cannot sense the damn creatures as the rest of you do. Neither choice would bother me. Still, if you must seek my opinion – I agree with us all continuing on as one big group."

Clare watched Zevran as he turned his eyes to glance back into the fire, and then nodded herself. She decided to stand up then, pulling the small blanket closer to her as she did so, still feeling very much cold.

"Good. As we are all in agreement, I will leave you all to sort out who will be keeping watch duties for tonight. If you need to wake me for the second half, then please do. Until then, I think I will try to catch up on some sleep while the fire is still warm."

The group said their goodnights, and soon after they had decided who would be switching watch duties they went about their business for the night. Zevran; who was sharing the first watch duty with one of the younger male recruits began to prepare himself for a night of staying awake. He turned to gather up his weapons, but as he stood up straight once again something caught his eye. From where he was standing, he watched as Ferleden's King glance over at Clare for a brief moment, obviously hoping to go by unnoticed. Zevran couldn't make out his expression as the man's back was turned on him, but he was sure he had a pretty good idea what was written on his face. As quickly as Zevran had noticed however, Alistair had just as quickly walked away. Zevran did not feel at ease though, and he felt his insides boil slightly. _It was a bad idea to have that idiot along_, he thought to himself. And – not for the first time since their journey had begun – Zevran couldn't help but fear slightly for Clare's emotional safety towards the man.

* * *

_Zevran? I'm not sure what's going on in his mind right now - but one things for sure, the wilds are about to become ... interesting ;)_

_Chapter 11 will be up soon, now I've got over that small wall of writers block. _

_You know ; if you're enjoying this story, or just this chapter alone, don't be afraind to leave a review. Reviews = cookies, and unlike Sten, I don't steal from fat kids. :)_


	11. Surprise Attacks

_This chapter, has been in my mind for a long while now, this and the next few chapters that youre about to face. _

_You get this a day early ( I would upload it Friday, but I'm kinda busy that night ). Anyway, here's capter 11 for your enjoyment - surprise attacks.  
_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:11_

_  
__"So what if you catch me, where would we land?  
In somebody's life forsaking his hands.  
Sing to me hope as she's thrown on the sand.  
All of your works  
are rated again."_

-

Clare was no longer sure herself how long the group had been travelling for precisely. She felt that it had to be a number of days now at least, a number of days which involved constantly following the direction in which their senses were leading them, waiting cautiously as the sense of darkspawn grew constantly stronger. She wasn't sure how far they had to go yet, weather they'd run into the darkspawn with the next turning they made, or how much longer they'd have to continue walking. Instead, she only knew one thing: the more time they spent in the wilds, the more anxious she got. And she knew she wasn't the only one.

Quite often, as they travelled deeper into the unknown mass before them, the younger recruits she'd brought with her would often look over their shoulders, obviously fearing that they would have been followed for whatever reason. She couldn't count the number of times she'd had to order them to focus before they fell into a ditch below them, due to the fact they were too engrossed in looking around them for any signs of activity or indication they were being followed. Zevran however had reassured them slightly, telling the new recruits that if they we're being followed, he would know about it before they would. The recruits had been weary at hearing such things, and it took some persuasion to get them to agree somewhat – at least to the extent that they would calm their nerves even slightly. Clare knew Zevran spoke the truth; he after all used to be an assassin once upon a time. He was trained in stealth, and knew the tricks of the trade when it came to sneaking about undetected. It was for that reason that Clare felt glad that he was along, as she knew he wouldn't hesitate to inform them if something were to attempt to sneak up on them.

They continued to walk through the wilds, trying to avoid the hazards of falling branches from the giant sized trees that leaned and fanned out above them and from the vines that hung from above. Quite often, they had to cut their way through the vines, as they were so tangled they would block the path before them. That was what Clare found herself doing now, hacking her way through the mess that blocked the direction they wanted to proceed through. From the corner of her eye Clare noticed one of the younger wardens looking around anxiously again. She decided to ignore it for now, linking it down to paranoia setting them once again.

"I have a bad feeling suddenly."

Clare continued not to reply to the comment, instead focusing on finishing off cutting through the vines. She noticed some of the other members of the group turn to the young recruit though, confusion set on their faces.

"What is it? Do you think someones following us?" Came Teresa's concerned voice.

"I'm not sure, I – just have a feeling ... a bad feeling."

The vines had finally been cut after what felt like an hour's effort. Happy with her achievement, Clare turned around to face the rest of the group, cleaning her blade from the remains of what lingered on it.

"A bad feeling? Dimitri, that doesn't really tell us much. What do you have a bad feeling about? What's worrying you?"

The young warden – who's gaze was currently to the ground below him – lifted his head to scan the group, his eyes finally lying on Clare. Clare noticed that the expression he held was one of fear, and suddenly knew this wasn't like before when they were merely paranoid at the prospect they could have be followed.

"I- I'm sorry Warden Clare but – I don't know how to explain it. I, just have this feeling – that something bad is going to happen. Something like –"

He paused, shaking his head as if to rid a terrifying ordeal that was living in his mind. Clare frowned, and exchanged glances with Zevran, Teresa & Alistair. She didn't want to admit it, but witnessing the nervous wreck that the man had turned into was starting to unnerve herself, and she knew it was having the same response on the others of the group. She stepped forward slightly, extending her hand to place the warden's shoulder in a reassuring way.

"Whatever it is you think is going to happen, we'll be prepared. We've come this far, we're not prepared to give up now. Be strong, and be ready for anything. No matter how unexpected it may be."

Her words seemed to have little effect on him, as he continued to shiver nervously under her grasp. So this is what the wilds were beginning to do to the poor man? She'd heard stories, stories of how the wilds had been known to drive people to paranoia, or even to the extremity of madness. Clare couldn't help but pray that that very experience was not happening to her comrade. She would never wish such a fate on anyone. But they hadn't sensed anything of danger approaching, and surely if something bad were to happen soon, they would have sensed it by now. Wouldn't they?

Clare removed her hand, and Teresa walked over to stand next to him, putting her arms around him to try and reassure the man herself. The group began to walk forward through the path Clare had cleared, a feeling of unease polluting the atmosphere around them. Teresa's arms remained wrapped around the man as the continued to walk forward slowly, and Clare's mind was thinking quickly. Of course, they were in the wilds, and the place could play various tricks on a person. But she was more concerned on _who_ it was the tricks were being played on. Was it her Grey Warden friend Dimitri who was a bundle of nerves right now, or was it instead the other way around? Could it be, that perhaps – the wilds we're blinding _them_, leading them into a dangerous position blindly? Could that even be possible? She wasn't sure she knew the answer to that.

As if right on cue, Clare stopped dead in her tracks, the group behind her following suit. She turned around sharply, looking around her, and then turning her gaze to the group, coming face to face with the same shocked expression she was wearing herself. She turned to Teresa and Alistair, hoping that they would tell her the opposite of what she thought had just happened.

"Did you two just-"

"Yes. I felt it too."

"As did I." Teresa replied to the two of them as she pulled away from the other warden to ready her weapon.

"But how? How could this only happen now?" Clare asked.

"I'm not sure – but I think we should perhaps save the questions for later." Alistair replied, getting his own sword ready for the oncoming nightmare.

Clare turned to look round her again, frantically looking around for the direction of what she had just sensed. It couldn't have happened, could it? Was it even possible? Up till now, they had only sensed the darkspawn faintly, almost as if it was a guarantee they were nesting deeper in the wilds. And Clare believed that, she honestly felt – no knew, - knew in her instincts that they had to travel deeper. But just then – they'd sensed something much closer. And she knew she wasn't mad because the others sensed it too.

What in makers name was going on?

She frowned deeper then, sweat building up on her brow in anticipation as she clutched to her sword tighter. Was this what Dimitri had sensed only moments before? Because if it was, she could definitely understand what he was so worked up about.

Suddenly, she sensed it again, the same terrifying feeling that she'd felt previously, only it was much clearer than before. She turned her heard sharply in the direction it has coming from, her long hair flying in the wind as she turned. Yes, something was coming, something on a very large scale. She heard Zevran take his swords out in preparation behind her also. He must have sensed the tension everyone else was feeling.

As the sensation became clearer, Clare's eyes opened wide. She knew what was coming to face them, and she wasn't sure she liked the idea of facing such a foe. The feeling she had sensed belonged to only one thing.

An ogre.

Clare turned to face the group as she'd worked out what was walking towards them. The faces of the others told her they knew what they were in for too. She glanced quickly at Dimitri, and decided he was still good for battle, despite his previous moment. They had to be prepared to work together to fight this monstrous thing. After all, like Alistair had said, questions could be asked later.

"Everyone! Prepare for battle!" She ordered as the ground began to vibrate with the terror of the ogre's footsteps. The group quickly prepared for battle, Clare quickly deciding that switching to her bow and arrow might be useful as the ogre approached. Teresa and one of the other wardens seemed to agree with this action, and decided to aid Clare by using their own arrows also. Zevran, Alistair and the remaining two wardens prepared themselves, ready to ambush the ogre as soon as it came into full view.

After what felt like an age of standing in battle stance just waiting, the group soon saw the ogre approach them, his ugly yet menacing face coming into view once it had walked past a looming tree. Clare, noting there was still some distance between them and the ogre - decided to use this strength to her advantage, and she ordered the group to quickly fire their arrows, aiming directly at it. Knowing little effect would probably be done against the creature, she hoped that at least some damage would be made before the ogre came close enough for the rest of them to fly into combat. After all, if they could weaken the monster before it was upon them, there was less chance of a major causality. Still, Clare couldn't help but think she was wishing too much.

The ogre soon came nearer to them, the arrows that we're hastily being shot at it doing little to no effect as expected. The remainder of the group ran headlong into battle, swords and daggers at the ready. Clare bit her lip slightly. _Damn!_ She thought. _This isn't going well!_ Without a moment to spare, she hastily discarded her bow and arrow, and instead pulled her trusty family sword out. Clare would be damned if the ogre we're to injure any of her group, not to mention the fact that the bloody King was in jeopardy right now. Of course, Alistair would run headfirst into battle, it was in his nature as a grey warden – as a warrior, just as it was hers. But maker, if _anything_ happened to him –

Clare put her thoughts on hold then, not exactly wanting to break from her concentration due to a certain _idiot_. She ran headlong after them, jumping in the air to hopefully get a better shot at the ogre's head. In figures, they outnumbered the beast – but in strength? The battle was tough. The ogre merely needed to swat at them like flies, and they would end up on a heap on the ground, which is – exactly what the creature had done to Zevran and Dimitri. All it took was for the ogre to slam its fist on top of them and then they would be –

But Clare wasn't going to let that happen, and as soon as she landed after successfully managing to slash at one of the many horns that were on the creatures head, she landed in front of the two and used her sword to shield the oncoming fist.

"Get up!" She shouted at the two on the ground, trying to hold on before she lost her grip.

Zevran didn't need telling twice, and he quickly shot up – pulling the other recruit with him. The warden was wounded, suffering from a broken leg from where he had hit a nearby boulder when he was thrown to the side. Clare watched as Zevran pulled him away, Teresa rushing back into battle carrying her own sword.

All of a sudden, Clare felt a tightness enclose around her, and suddenly realised she was being pulled into the air. _Oh, this isn't good_ she thought to herself. Instead of struggling however, she waited until the ogre pulled her face to face with itself. For a brief moment it simply looked at her, as if deciding what it should do next. Clare didn't hesitate, and used the short amount of time she had to throw her sword into the ogre's eye. The shot was a success, and the ogre screamed in pain. Clare smirked to herself then, proud of her shot – but the victory didn't last long however. For in the ogre's rage he had decided to throw her away into the air as if she we're nothing by trash.

She wasn't sure which direction she had been thrown into, but Clare had decided that quite probably, she was in a much worse situation then what she was in thirty seconds ago. She soon felt the velocity as she neared the ground, and decided to use it to her advantage and tried to land somewhat gracefully. The plan somewhat worked yet didn't at the same time, as she managed to still land in a heap on the ground, and also still managed to injure herself slightly, but she silently thanked the maker that her landing hadn't taken a worse direction like it could have. She knew all too well from experience that she could have been in much more trouble from such a situation. Even if having your face smashed in the ground didn't look like a good thing to any normal person.

Clare pulled her head up from the ground, and noticed then just _how _far she had been thrown through the air. Not moving, she looked around her – wondering if she'd remembered to retract her blade from the ogre's eyes before her journey through the air. Seeing that there was no sign of it around her, she guessed she didn't. She turned to where the ogre was, somewhere in the distance – and noticed the battle was beginning to come to an end. Although the ogre was enraged and in fact dangerous, she figured that now it was half blinded – it was proving to be quite a strong weakness for the creature, as the group had nearly brought it to the ground with little trouble. At that assumption, she pulled herself into a sitting position, clasping at her chest slightly as her ribs ached in pain. She pulled her hand away and noticed there was no blood lingering on her fingers – which was always a good sign. Still, that still didn't manage to excuse the shooting pain she was currently feeling.

"Ouch," Clare said to herself. She mentally told herself that she needed to be more careful with her crazy plans. No more 'flips of doom' that could render her winded, or suffering from a lack in the number of ribs she should have.

She suddenly heard footsteps running to her, and Clare looked up briefly. She saw Alistair running toward her, carrying her backpack with him. He stopped when he came face to face with her, and Clare swore she saw him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank the maker you're alive – and conscious." He said, and Clare sensed his relief through the way he spoke as well. He turned his gaze to look at her, concern laced in his eyes slightly still. "Are you alright?"

Clare smiled slightly, secretly feeling rather touched at his concern. Not that she'd openly admit it though. She nodded, and tried to pull herself up. Failing, she put her hand out, a sign to show she needed Alistair's help to get up off the ground. He understood, and hastily went to help pull her up.

"I'm fine," She replied as he pulled her off the ground. Clare tried to balance herself when she was on her feet again. She quickly let go of his hand, and brushed herself down. "Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing out of the ordinary for me."

Alistair's face lost the concern it held, and he smiled briefly, obviously happy she wasn't seriously injured. He handed her the backpack, and sighed yet again.

"You're always injuring yourself in some way; maker knows how much trouble you get up to."

Clare merely made an 'hmph!' sound, and snatched the bag off him, searching through it for something to ease the discomfort in her chest. Finding what she wanted, she plonked the bag on the ground and drunk the small potion that she took out, not wasting any time as she wanted it to take effect as quickly as possible. When she was finished, she put the empty vial back in her backpack, ignoring Alistair as he watched her.

"Isn't that what my job entitles anyway? Facing constant peril and finding some miraculous way out of it?" She glared up at him, knowing all too well that he knew she was referring to the archdemon. Noticing him shift on his feet awkwardly at that question, Clare quickly decided to change the subject. "What of the others? Are they all okay?"

Alistair scratched the back of his head then, looking up above him.

"Well, the majority of the group is fine – only the odd cuts and bruises, like yourself. Dimitri didn't look too good though. I'm not sure, I kind of ... ran before the ogre had fallen. Only because I was worried about you - I mean we all we're of course, but I was the only one not tackling the ogre at that point in time." Alistair sighed, and Clare knew that sigh as a classic 'Alistair why can't you shut up before you say something more stupid than usual' sign. Alistair ran his hand through his hair then, and continued to speak. "I think Dimitri was mumbling something about sensing a smaller group of darkspawn threat nearby. If anyone else heard, they probably went to find them."

Clare frowned then, and turned to look up at Alistair in confussion.

"Went to find – wouldn't it have been better for them to wait for the group to reform first?"

"Well, it was a small group – only two or three stragglers. They should be back soon."

"Hmm," Clare crossed her arms then. There was something about what was happening she didn't like. She couldn't sense any other darkspawn threat, but then she remembered – she hadn't even sensed the ogre till it was right in front of them. Everything was back to normal to her, and she only had the sensation that the darkspawn nest they were looking for was a little while away yet. For them to sense stragglers close by and to run off after them, it did not put her at ease. She was suddenly ready to quote Dimitri's feelings from earlier in that moment. She herself had a bad feeling about what was happening. A very bad feeling.

Sighing, she picked up the backpack and pulled it over her shoulder. As much as she didn't like what was happening, it would be good to return to Dimitri and see how he was fairing.

"Well, until we reunite with them – I suggest we return to where the ogre lies. I'm not sure what you think, but I want my family's sword back."

Clare heard Alistair laugh slightly then, and she raised an eyebrow. Not that he could see anyway, her back was turned on him as she was preparing to walk on.

"Well err- why did you use the Cousland family sword to stab the ogre in the eye exactly?"

She sighed. Alistair _would_ ask such a stupid question wouldn't he? Still, they'd reunite with the others soon. She could put up with his stupid comments – for now.

* * *

_I wonder what Clare & Alistair will find when they return ~  
_

_Chapter 12 should be up sometime soon. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did - why not leave a review? It'll prompt me to update faster ; and it'll prevent you from getting mabari slobbered :)  
_


	12. The Fear

_A much delayed update here. For once, this was not due to writers block – surprisingly, but for various other matters. For one, it was my 18th birthday, and with that game a few; distractions in the form of gifts. These distractions included Final Fantasy 13, Dragon Age Awakening and Alice in Wonderland._

_It was with Awakening that I felt the need to update this fic once again, especially as I like the direction the game is turning_

_Anyway, on with the next chapter.  
_

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:12_

_  
__"Sometimes the curiosity can kill the soul but leave the pain,  
and every ounce of innocence is left inside the brain.  
And through the looking glass we see she's faithfully returned,  
but now off with her head I fear is everyone's concern."_

-

Her mind was still filled with an invading feeling of confusion, so much confusion for everything that they had experienced in such a small amount of time. For one how was it even possible that something as remarkably large as an ogre had remained undetectable to them until the last moment? How was it that, even the small flurry of darkspawn that had followed after were all but a shock for the group to suddenly run into, that it was an unexpected attack? Had the darkspawn somehow grew stronger since the fall of the archdemon? Of course, Clare had contemplated that issue many a time before, when her fellow wardens would report back to her about how their missions had gone ahead, and she had always been concerned that the darkspawn had never shown any sign of growing weaker in any way. But, was it even possible for them to grow stronger now, so strong that they could in fact be undetectable to a grey warden?

All of this was unnerving to Clare, and very had to get around in her mind. But if they weren't getting stronger, than what other explanation did she have for all the questions that lay in her mind?

Dimitri had somehow sensed it. Well, Clare wasn't sure if he had sensed the oncoming group itself, but he had been able to sense_ something_ that had a strong enough effect to unnerve him, to create a nervous wreck about the man. That was more than what the rest of the group had sensed. In return however, the rest of the group decided to ignore his worries, and to continue as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Clare wasn't suggesting they didn't take him seriously per say, but they didn't do much to prepare themselves for whatever was troubling him, not until it was almost too late. Clare wished they had been more cautious after his first warning; maybe then the group wouldn't be separated now. Still, part of her was saying that they couldn't have been any more cautious as a group even if they had tried. They were in the wilds after all, and Clare was sure that that was enough of a reason for them to be cautious after all. The ongoing battle within her mind continued on she walked with Alistair, wanting nothing but the haze of confusion in her mind to clear itself into one, reasonable explanation and resolution.

The two of them reached where the battle with the giant ogre had only been held moments before, now looking like one of the many battlegrounds the two of them had had to bear witness to way too many times in the past. Clare quickly scanned over the surroundings from where she stood for wherever her sword may have been, which in her mind should have logically been somewhere near where the ogre's form laid. However, she stopped her search sharply when she noticed Alistair run suddenly towards another fallen figure, a smaller one. She decided to follow after him, and found they came face to face with Dimitri – or what _was_ once him.

"Oh my-" Clare gasped at the sight, looking down at the man's body.

He was in no better state then when she had seen him before, in fact he was worse. He had been shot with a number of arrows, and Clare assumed that must have been what had finished him off in the end. She crouched down beside him - noticing that Alistair had already knelt next to him - and looked into the fallen boys face. If only he hadn't been left alone, then events may have been different for him. He may not have died.

Alistair pulled out one of the arrows from the warrior's body, his face holding a grim expression as he did so. He looked at it intently, and turned to Clare with a serious look on his face.

"They were poison arrows. My guess is he was dead as soon as he was shot with them" He said.

Clare shut her eyes and shook her head, as if it would get the image of what she was witnessing in front her to leave her mind forever. No matter how many times she had to face it, she would never get used to the amount of death she'd have to face within her life.

"I'm sorry," She whispered – more to the lifeless body and herself then to Alistair. She opened her eyes and turned to the man kneeling beside her, still clasping the arrows and examining it somewhat. "Do you suppose it was a darkspawn attack?"

Alistair dropped the arrow to the floor beside him, and stood up slowly.

"I think you know the answer to that already. It definitely wasn't the ogre, although I assume that it only helped in weakening him. But I remember seeing some of the darkspawn armed with bows and arrows, so I guess – that must be what it is."

Clare sighed at the answer. She figured as much. It could have been anything that attacked him really, but the poison on the arrows was a giveaway in its own. Over the course of fighting against darkspawn in the past year Clare had since noticed that poison had become a common thing with darkspawn archers. It was like a trademark they had adopted somewhat, a way in which they could leave their mark on their victims so that others knew who had commit the murder. In some way, it was very much like a mark that an assassin may leave behind after a job was completed. The amount of casualties they'd get back at the keep that lead to poisoning in such a way was considerably high, and it was one of the reasons why Clare was often asking Zevran to create potions to counteract the poisons effects. There was no shortage of the antidote now, as the wardens were usually prepared for the attack. Usually.

"Still, at least it was quick somewhat." Alistair spoke again as he walked over to the fallen ogre, breaking Clare out of her daze. "I remember hearing stories of what darkspawn would do to some of their prey. The horrible, torturous things they are. No wonder why there walking monsters."

"Yes. I suppose your right." Clare sighed as she agreed with what Alistair said. At least Dimitri wasn't being hung by a tree, or worse. She shuddered slightly at the thought. "Still, he was young; both in his age, and of being a recruit. I'd rather have preferred a different ending for him."

"He's a grey warden, Clare. Dimitri knew what he was in for from the moment he agreed to the joining. Do you really think there would have been a happy ending for him? What with what happens to us all in the end?"

Clare turned to Alistair, who had stopped walking and was looking at her. He was right, of course he was. After all, he was the senior warden out of the two – as much as the both of them didn't like to admit it. For a long time, he knew a lot more than she did about the whole Grey Warden matter, and he probably still knew a lot more than she did, regardless of how much she had learnt. She stared down at the ground then, knowing that for once – Alistair was being the sensible one, and she the one that was stuck in her own emotions.

"I suppose – yes. Yes, you're right. He was a Grey Warden; time would have caught up with him. It's just – there's so much, death and – I'm never going to get used to it, am I?"

Clare looked up then, and noticed that Alistair was looking back at her, smiling sadly.

"Does anyone ever get used to it?"

They remained like that for a while longer, staring at each other as if time had stood still. Clare felt her strength seep into her again, returning her into the warrior that she was known for, and not the confused wreck that she currently was on the ground. She broke the gaze quickly, looking back at Dimitri's body – or at least using it as a distraction.

"We should continue with what we we're doing. Search for the sword then, we can bury Dimitri's body. I don't like the idea of just leaving it here in such a place."

Alistair nodded, and Clare noticed from the corner of her vision that he hurried off to go back to searching for her sword near the ogre again. She stood up and turned fully to Dimitri's fallen body, pulling the last few arrows out from him. A proper burial was what he deserved, and what she would do for him. She picked up his weapon from beside him and laid it on top of his body, and then she looked around her, in search of something else.

It was only a few moments later that she heard Alistair's voice again, announcing that he had found her sword. Clare felt some happiness rise within her again. At least she hadn't lost one of the only momentums that remained of her family. Truthfully, she didn't know what she would have done if she had lost that. After all, the sword had saved her life on more than one occasion, and served her well. Replacing such a weapon was not something that she would ever want to do, even if the occasion came for her to do so.

She turned to face Alistair, a smile creeping its way on her lips. The smile stopped half way however, it instead being replaced slowly with one of slight shock

Time once again seemed to freeze as she saw Alistair's face change. Clare wasn't sure what had happened, or why she felt a sharp pain within in her suddenly. She looked down slowly, and noticed an arrow poking itself out of her armour. _That wasn't there before, was it? _She thought to herself. Clare was stunned to the spot, just staring at the foreign object. Nothing around her seemed to register in her mind, not even Alistair's scream.

Funny, Clare suddenly remembered how she was always being told her armour wasn't practical, wasn't proper for combat. She had always ignored such comments though. It seemed to her now that she had been wrong to ignore such judgement from others.

"Useless ... armour ..." She heard herself stammer, her world around her spinning slightly. Her mind seemed to be so distorted, a hammering sensation filling within it. Was there any way to make what she was experiencing stop? She wanted to move, wanted to do something, yet instead she was just standing there, rooted to the spot. Why couldn't she move?

And before she knew it, Clare's world was overtaken with black, with nothingness. She heard – or did she feel it more than hear? - a thud follow – and that was all she remembered before she blacked out completely.

* * *

_Uh-oh..._

_Hopefully, chapter 13 won't take so long to update. We shall see. If you like this chapter - or the story, why not leave a review? It really means alot to me, and well - you might get the next chapter up quicker :) Reviews for me, are like cats to Anders ~  
_


	13. As The World Falls Down

_Here's chapter 13, the sequel to the end of the events that we found in chapter 12. _

_I'm not sure how I like this chapter but - I guess I'll leave it up to you guys to decide if you like it or not. _

* * *

IF WE EVER MEET AGAIN

_0:13_

"_As the pain sweeps through makes no sense to you, _

_every thrill has gone wasn't too much fun at all. _

_But I'll be there for you; _

_as the world falls down."_

_-_

"_- And that's why Morrigan hates him so much right now."_

_Clare watched Alistair's expression, noticing his laughter as she finished her story. A small smile crept up on her lips at his reaction, and she turned back to her loyal Mabari hound to pet it on the head._

_She wasn't sure that there was ever a time where she felt ever more content then what she did now, sitting by the fire with her pet on one side, and Alistair on the other. Clare supposed it should be strange that she did feel so comfortable, especially given the situation they were in, and why that very situation was the reason why they had met each other less than two years ago. But, somehow, despite everything that had happened, everything that they had to face, their bond just grew ever stronger. She wasn't sure if it that bond also grew because they were the last two wardens left in Ferleden that aided, or if it was the fact that they had both lost something special to them around the same time as each other. All Clare knew was that she was glad. Glad to know that Alistair was by her side through it all, even if they both wanted to ignore the ever looming and unpredictable future, and the shroud of darkness and the unknown that hung over it._

_Yawning slightly, Clare leant her head on Alistair's shoulder, feeling him wrap his arm around her waist in response. She sighed in contentment, and continued to gaze into the fire before them. _

"_Is it foolish that even through all the darkness in the world, I feel like I've never been happier then I am right now?"_

_Clare wasn't sure where the question had come from, or if she had even spoken it out load or within her mind. It was only moments afterwards that she realised that she must have indeed not have thought it, as Alistair soon replied to her question._

"_Foolish? Hum, I'm not sure. I've pretty much been called foolish for most of my life," He paused slightly, as if thinking for the right thing to say. "But, if it is foolish, then – that makes us both fools I guess. And, I don't mind that. Unless you do, because I'm sure you're much less of a fool then I am, in fact I _know_ you are much less of a fool then I ever am and –"_

_Clare chuckled, turning to look at Alistair in the face. She guessed he must have caught sight of her expression, as he soon stopped whatever he was in the middle of trying to explain._

"_I'm – babbling again aren't I?"_

_Again, Clare chuckled, nodding in response to him._

_  
"Yes, you are rather. But then again, you _are_ a babbling idiot."_

"_Hey now! Where that may be true – I'm only a babbling idiot when it comes to trying to explain things to you. Usually complicated things like, emotions and, what kind of cheese is the best and-"_

_Clare pushed a finger to the man's lips, trying once again to stop his flow of talking. Her plan worked, as he had soon afterwards stopped, staring back at her once again. She smiled, and leant in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Once she had, she looked up at him and smirked, shortly after resuming the conversation they were having previously._

"_You make it seem as if being a babbling idiot is a bad thing. Which I think you're forgetting, I never said it was."_

_They remained as they were for a while, staring back at one another as if they were the only two that existed in the whole entire world. Well, at that moment – for both of them – there was no one else in the world for them. _

"_I-it's not?" Came Alistair's hesitant answer after the short pause. _

_Clare broke out into a smile again, trying not to laugh at the man's innocent look in his eyes. Again, she shook her head in response, feigning a shocked expression on her own face._

"_Why Templar! Of course it's not! If it was a bad thing in any way, then I wouldn't be proud enough to claim you as _my _babbling idiot. And if anyone else argues that it is a bad thing, why – they'll just have to answer to me now, won't they?"_

_She watched Alistair's response, watched as shock passed over him for a split second, but was then replaced by an expression of soft tenderness. He brought his other arm to wrap around her, and Clare noticed his smile grew even more as well._

"_Well, I will never argue with logic like that. And I feel sorry for any poor soul that happens to disagree with your opinion, for they'll have a formidable foe before them, m'dear."_

_At that, Clare felt herself laugh once again, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Yes, it was true. She was in love, absolutely, one hundred percent in love with the man next her. And Claire was happy that she had him to stand beside her and face all her hardships with her, even as the world threatened to fall down around them._

_

* * *

  
_

Clare felt her eyes flicker open, the area around her being dark, and unknown. She blinked, once, twice, and once more again, trying to focus her vision. Her head was spinning slightly, a mild pain echoing within one side of her skull. What had happened to make her feel this way?

She wanted to get up, thinking that maybe that would help her head. But as she tried to sit up, she felt another pain from her mid section. Frowning slightly, Clare looked down beneath her, wondering why she was feeling like she did, and that was when she noticed it. A bandage. A bandage that was stained with blood._ Her_ blood.

Suddenly, everything within her mind started to make sense to her ever so slightly. How her and Alistair had returned to find her sword. How they had uncovered Dimitri's body, and how she had been attacked suddenly. As if reliving the experience, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach just then – as if she had only just felt the arrow go straight through her. She pulled her arms around her stomach, ignoring the numbing pain in her head. Compared to what she felt with her other wound, it was nothing.

Clare frowned in discomfort, laying on her back and trying her hardest not to move, so as to not upset the wound. She needed a potion, something to sooth the pain slightly. After all, she guessed it was a previous potion wearing off that left her with the pain she was currently feeling. She turned her head slightly, searching for her small backpack. She found it, leaning up against a rock, beside Alistair's. And that's when it hit her. Where _was_ Alistair? Had he left her? But, if he had, why had he left his stuff with her?

Just then, Clare heard footsteps. She turned her head slightly into the direction they were coming from, and as if her questions had been answered, she saw him. Alistair, standing right before her. He was carrying a slightly shocked expression, and Clare noticed that it appeared he had slept very little for – well for however long she had been out for. She wanted to smile slightly in reassurance, but just as she tried to the pain came back to her stomach, and she found herself preoccupied once again.

Alistair however didn't miss her actions, nor missed what they meant, and instantly ran to where her backpack was. Moments later, he had found a potion, and was taking the stopper out of the vial before handing it to Clare.

"Here, drink this." He said, pushing the vial into her outstretched hand.

Clare took it from him quickly, wanting nothing but to shoot some sharp retort back to him. What did he think she was going to do, wither in pain for a while longer and admire the colour of the liquid contained in the vial? Not bloody likely. The pain however, was too much for her to voice such opinions, and so instead, she brought the vial to her lips and gulped down the contents in one. They both sat in silence for a while, waiting for the potion to take effect.

When it did, Clare removed her other hand from her bandaged wound. She felt exhausted, which was odd considering she had only really just awoken. Without turning to face Alistair, she spoke.

"How long was I out for?"

She sensed Alistair blink, felt his stare burning in from where he sat at her side. Clare was attuned to his senses even after all this time, attuned so well that she knew he was currently feeling concerned, relieved, and nervous all at the same time. Maker, the man felt too many emotions at once some times.

"Three or four days." He replied. Again, a long pause followed as Clare tried to process the information. Three or four days, and they were no nearer to finding the darkspawn group, or the rest of their own group for that matter. She sighed, feeling that she was to blame for the fact they were lacking on their task.

"I – I was worried you know."

Clare blinked. That she wasn't expecting, although she guessed after the statement was spoken, she should have. She turned her head, looking at Alistair in confusion.

"Worried? For me? Oh Alistair, this was nothing but a flesh wound, I've been through worse. You know that."

"Don't. Don't try and brush this off as a simple cut or graze. It wasn't Clare. It really wasn't. You don't understand, you were so near to death and – I didn't know what to do." A frown fell on his face as what happened replayed in his mind. Clare noticed he was shaking slightly, for what she couldn't understand. Her wound hadn't been that serious; had it?

"Alistair, its fine. _I'm_ fine. See? I'm awake aren't I?"

"But it could have gone differently. It could have turned out so horribly. Clare, the arrow went right through you. Right. Through. And as if that wasn't enough, it was coated in poison."

Clare found herself frowning then. Poison? It wasn't so much as a shock to her, not with how much she had seen it being used lately. But to know she had been struck with a poison arrow so easily, without her even realising it till now? That wasn't too comforting a thing to hear.

"I – I didn't know what to do. If I left the arrow in, then the poison surely would have done more damage than it already had, and yet, if I took the arrow out, how could I be sure you wouldn't bleed to death? Sure, there were potions but – whenever you were injured in the past, there was always Morrigan and Wynne there, and they always knew exactly what to do. But, with just me – I panicked. I didn't –"

Clare sat up slightly, the pain in her stomach still only mild to what it was before, and the pain in her head far less worse then what it had been previously. She leant over and grabbed Alistair's hand. He was babbling, but then again – he always was one to go on about whatever the topic was.

"Alistair," She said yet again, noticing him trail off and turn to look at her again. His expression was worried, and Clare tried to ignore the hurt, almost breaking feeling she felt within her deep inside. Instead, she tried to look reassuring – although she was not too sure if she was accomplishing that task or not. Either way, it would have to do. "Alistair, stop thinking about the what if's. Whatever you did, it was the right thing to do. The fact I'm still sitting here before you is enough of a clue for that. You saved my life, and I thank you for that."

They sat like that for a while, Alistair fighting against his nerves and confusion whilst Clare tried to reassure him. _Just like the way they used to be in the past_. As that thought fell into Clare's mind however, she felt ... uncomfortable. She looked down and saw that she was still holding his hand from where she had grabbed it before. How long had she been holding that now? As if it we're burning her, she pulled her hand away from his, and turned to look away.

"I, I'd never let you die if I could stop it Clare. Not you."

Clare remained looking away, not daring to look back at him. She didn't want to see his face; imagining what his expression was giving her enough of an idea of what he was currently feeling. Instead, she continued to look down at her hands.

"Thank you for helping me," She said, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but at the same time not knowing what else to say. Her head, even though it was much less painful then it was before, still left her in a confused state of mind. She looked up at where the backpacks were, and then noticed something.

"Alistair, where's my armour?"

"You mean – the useless excuse for armour you were wearing before the attack? It was broken, Clare. Broken and stained with blood. You can't use it anymore, no one can."

She frowned then, and turned sharply to look at Alistair – quickly wishing she wouldn't as the pain shot in her head once again.

"What do you mean I can't wear it? What armour am I supposed to wear then Alistair?! Or do you expect me to walk through the wilds unprotected?"

Alistair looked at her then, his face showing his shock from her change in mood. Clare was furious. The armour couldn't be _that_ bad. And after all, she could try and repair it. It was only an arrow that shot her; she could easily patch the hole up so that it would stay in one piece until they were finished with their mission. She'd done it before.

"Well of course not, it would be ridiculous to do such a thing in the wilds. But Clare – if you saw the state of it, you'd understand how utterly useless and impractical it is. You couldn't wear it without having a weakness exposed to the enemy, and maker knows how many of those darkspawn bastards are lurking around. We'll find you some other armour. I've heard rumours of the wilds ... I'm sure there's some lying around somewhere-"

"Alistair, I am not stealing some armour off a dead body, if that is what you're implying. Even for a suggestion – that is utterly stupid."

"Clare, don't be ridiculous. I'm not suggesting stealing it off a body. No, I'm suggesting the ruins that are found here. I've heard rumours of treasure being hidden in them. I'm sure; if we searched we'd find you some new armour in no time. Some much more _practical _armour."

Clare would have argued, especially at the directed insult about how impractical her past armour was. However, the pain in her head was still there, merging her thoughts together into one very confusing mess. Now would not be the time for a rational argument. She could argue with Alistair all she wanted when she was better again, for now she guessed she'd have to give him the satisfaction of being right and – of leading.

She carefully lay back down again, sighing, a frown remaining on her face. Alistair had won for once, and she hated to admit it. She was _too proud_ to admit it. Even though he had won the discussion, he would not get the final word.

"Fine. I guess we'll find new armour later, or tomorrow – or whenever we go to search for some. It has to be pretty armour though, not that heavy, ugly stuff all the other boring soldiers wear."

* * *

_And so, Clare shows her stubborn side :)_

_Next chapter : we will go hunting for new armor for Clare. It should be up soon - I hope -fingers crossed- Reviews get new chapters up quicker, so don't forget to press that little box down there and leave a comment if you liked this chapter :D_


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